; 


VOOD  COBB 


THE  REAL  TURK 


UTHOR. 


THE  REAL  TURK 


by 

STANWOOD  COBB 


THE  PILGRIM  PRESS 

BOSTON  NEW  YORK  CHICAGO 


C/ 


Copyright  1914 
By    STANWOOD    COBB 


THE    PILGRIM    PRESS 
BOSTON 


DEDICATED 
TO  MY  MOTHER 

Fidelis  in  Litteris 


331087 


FOREWORD 

At  present  troubled  Turkey  is  attracting 
more  and  more  attention  from  those  who  follow 
world  affairs.  The  question  in  every  mind  is, 
"How  will  things  turn  out?"  In  order,  how- 
ever, to  form  any  adequate  conception  of  the 
future  of  a  race,  one  must  have  studied  the  race 
at  first  hand,  and  must  be  acquainted  with  "the 
soul  of  the  people."  The  time  has  gone  by  when 
every  race  not  white  is  assigned  to  a  predestined 
barbarism.  We  are  beginning  to  believe  that  the 
future  may  belong  to  the  Chinese,  to  the 
Japanese,  to  the  Hindu,  as  well  as  to  the  Anglo- 
Saxon.  Will  it  belong  also  to  the  Turk,  or  must 
he  be  condemned  to  a  helpless  inferiority? 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  spend  three  event- 
ful years  in  Turkey  during  a  period  which  saw 
the  rise  of  the  Young  Turk  Party  and  the  down- 
fall of  Abdul  Hamid;  and  I  had  excellent  op- 
portunities for  studying  the  possibilities  of  the 
Turk  and  comparing  him  with  the  races  amidst 

[vii] 


THE     REAL    TURK 

which  he  lives — the  Greek,  the  Jewish,  the  Ar- 
menian and  the  Bulgarian. 

In  the  course  of  these  years  I  grew  to  love  the 
Turk,  as  do  all  Americans  who  live  among  them. 
I  tried  to  understand  his  character,  his  temper- 
ament and  his  way  of  looking  at  life.  I  was 
constantly  analyzing  the  Oriental  customs,  in 
order  to  distinguish  the  factors  of  race,  climate, 
environment  and  religion  which  make  the  Turk 
what  he  is.  The  conclusions  which  I  reached  I 
present  to  the  reader,  feeling  sure  that  he  will 
find  here  a  true  portrait  of  the  Turk,  and  one 
that  does  him  what  justice  is  in  my  power. 

What  will  be  the  future  of  Turkey?  In  spite 
of  the  many  misfortunes,  discouragements  and 
evils  through  which  the  Land  of  Allah  and  the 
Crescent  is  passing,  I  have  never  given  up  my 
faith  in  the  ultimate  salvation  of  this  brave  and 
admirable  people.  There  are  still  true  patriots 
in  Turkey — men  whom  I  know  and  love — and 
if  the  reins  of  government  can  but  fall  into 
their  hands,  true  progress  will  ensue. 

Some  may  accuse  me  of  giving  too  favorable 
an  impression  of  the  Turk  and  of  his  religion. 
That  there  are  many  evils  to  deplore  in  the  in- 


THE     REAL     TURK 

stitutions,  government  and  religion  of  Turkey, 
I  would  be  the  last  to  deny;  but  so  much  has 
been  written  of  these  more  unfavorable  aspects 
that  I  prefer  to  present  the  good  side  of  the 
Turk,  believing  that  the  best  way  of  helping  a 
people,  as  is  the  case  with  an  individual,  is  by 
seeing  their  good  qualities  rather  than  their  bad. 
I  hope  this  book  will  bring  to  the  reader  a  new 
point  of  view,  depicting  the  life  of  the  Turk  and 
his  character  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  a  better 
understanding  of  that  much-maligned  race. 

Several  chapters  of  it  were  written  for  mag- 
azine publication.  Chapters  I  and  IX  and  a 
part  of  chapter  XIII  have  been  published  in 
The  Boston  Transcript;  parts  of  Chapters  VIII 
and  XI  in  The  Open  Court;  and  Chapter  V 
in  The  New  England  Magazine. 

I  take  pleasure  here  in  thanking  the  friends 
who  have  helped  in  the  making  of  the  book — my 
dear  Oriental  brother,  Halousi  Hussein,  Pro- 
fessor of  Turkish  at  Robert  College,  for  much 
of  the  material  that  has  gone  into  the  book ;  Miss 
Hester  D.  Jenkins,  formerly  Professor  of  His- 
tory at  the  American  College  for  Girls,  and  Dr. 
George  Washburn,  twenty  years  President  of 

[ix] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Robert  College,  for  reviewing  the  manuscript; 
and  my  brother,  Percival  B.  Cobb,  for  a  final 
reading  of  the  manuscript,  for  the  revision  of 
the  proof  sheets,  and  for  constructive  criticism. 

STANWOOD  COBB. 

Newton  Upper  Falls 
June  16,  1914. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     Character  and  Climate       ....  1 

Climate  an  Important  Factor  in  History — The 
American's  Contempt  for  Turkish  Indolence — Yet 
He  Succumbs  to  It  Himself — Enervating  Effects  of 
the  Turkish  Climate— Customs  of  the  Country- 
Peculiar  Effects  of  Climate  on  Mentality — "Never 
Do  Today  What  You  Can  Put  Off  till  Tomorrow"— 
Delightful  Dreaminess  of  the  Orient — The  Fascina- 
tion of  the  East 

II     The  Turk  Still  a  Medieval          ...  21 

The  Turks  a  Kindly  People— Yet  Still  Barbarous— 
The  Oriental  and  the  Occidental— Cruelties  of  the 
Turks— The  Explanation— A  Change  for  the  Better 
— The  Turk  a  Medieval  in  Religion — Also  in  Educa- 
tion 

III     The  Turk  as  a  Citizen        ....  87 

Loyal  to  His  Sultan  and  His  Religion — Soldier  and 
Citizen — Peculiar  Oriental  Methods  of  Government 
—The  Novelty  of  Citizenship— The  First  Taste  of 
Liberty — A  Visit  to  the  Turkish  Parliament — Recep- 
tion of  Delegates  on  Their  Return  to  Native 
Countries 

IV     The  Turk  in  Business         ....  51 

Turks  not  Naturally  Traders — Very  Honest  as 
Merchants  and  as  Servants — Have  Little  Ambition — 
Do  not  Solicit  Business^— Methods  of  Industry  and 
Business  Medieval — The  Turkish  Merchant  Has  a 
Sense  of  Leisure,  and  Is  not  a  Slave  to  the  Dollar 

V     The  Eternal  Feminine         ....  63 

Oriental  Attitude  towards  the  Gentler  Sex— Mo- 
hammedanism not  Solely  Responsible — The  Usual 
Life  of  a  Turkish  Lady— Evils  of  Polygamy— 

[xi] 


THE    REAL     TURK 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

Polygamy  and  the  West — The  Mohammedan's  De- 
fence of  Polygamy— Turks  Treat  Women  Better 
than  Do  Other  Oriental  Races— The  Sentiment 
Against  Polygamy — Character  of  Turkish  Women — 
The  Revolution  and  the  New  Freedom— Halliday 
Hanum — Changing  Conditions — Love  and  Marriage — 
The  Oriental  Dream 

VI     At  Home 83 

The  "Simple  Life"  in  the  Orient— Domestic  Habits 
of  the  Turk — Common  Sense  in  Clothes — Headgear 
and  Footwear — Need  of  Tolerance  for  Other 
People's  Customs— Turkish  Diet— Favorite  Dishes- 
Delicious  Fruit  and  Vegetables  of  the  Orient — 
Pilaff — A  Persian  Dinner 

VII     A  Great  Ottoman  Patriot  and  Teacher        .         105 

Sacrifice  and  Character— Tewfik  Fikret  Bey— His 
Youth — Becomes  Teacher  and  Editor — His  Influence 
for  Good— Persecuted  by  Abdul  Hamid— The 
Tragedy  of  Helplessness — Means  of  Diversion — Pro- 
fessor at  Robert  College— His  Charming  Wife— The 
Revolution — New  Opportunities  for  Service — Fik- 
ret's  Vision  of  the  Perfect  School— Fikret  a  Poet— 
His  Lofty  Character 

VIII     Turkish   Schools 127 

Turkish  Education  in  a  Process  of  Transition — 
The  Mosque  Schools — No  Higher  Education  for 
Women — Secondary  Schools  for  Boys — The  Galata 
Serai— A  Progressive  Turkish  Educator— The  Otto- 
man University — Turkish  Theological  Schools — A 
Visit  to  the  University  of  Cairo— Intellectual  Stag- 
nation 

IX     American  Influence  on  Turkish  Education  .          143 

American  Schools  Had  Nothing  to  Do  with  the 
Turkish  Revolution — Influence  of  Missionary  Schools 
Confined  Largely  to  Christian  Population  of  Tur- 
key— Missionary  and  Mohammedan — Great  Scholars 
Among  the  Turkish  Missionaries — A  Movement  to 
Reorganize  and  Endow  the  Mission  Schools  of 
Turkey— Robert  College— Its  Influence— The  Syrian 

[xii] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

Protestant  College  at  Beirut — Career  of  Dr.  Post — 
The  American  College  for  Girls — Amateur  Theatri- 
cals in  the  Orient— Different  Events  of  the  College 
Year — Commencement — Future  of  the  Girl  Gradu- 
ates— A  Splendid  Testimony 

X     The  Education  of  Oriental  Boys  at  Robert 

College 167 

Their  Eagerness  for  Study — Their  Thoughtfulness 
— The  Ancient  Sources  of  Education  in  the  Near 
East — Modern  Languages  and  Oriental  Learning — 
The  Enthusiasm  of  the  Students — Early  Maturity  of 
Thought— The  Marvelous  Greek  Mind— The  Suicide 
Club — Problems  of  Oriental  Boys — Student  Anar- 
chists—Teacher and  Pupil— The  Joy  of  Teaching 

XI     Islam 185 

The  Religion  of  Mohammed  Cannot  Be  Despised — 
Its  Civilizing  Influence  in  Arabia — Its  Rapid 
Spread — What  Europe  Owes  to  the  Arabian  Civiliza- 
tion—The Spell  of  Islam— Its  Simplicity— Devotions 
and  Observances — Influence  of  Islam  Waning  Among 
Educated  Moslems — The  Mosque  Service  on  Friday 
—The  Pilgrimage  to  Mecca— Tolerant  Attitude  of 
Islam  toward  Christianity — Points  of  Agreement 
and  Difference — Islam  and  the  Revolution — Mistaken 
Missionary  Methods— The  Cultured  Turk  an  Eclectic 

XII     Islam  and  the  Inner  Life  ....         207 

Sunnis  and  Shiites— Sufi  Mysticism— The  Dervish 
Orders  — Bektashis  —  Bahaism  —  Its  History,  —  Baba 
Ullah  and  His  Teachings — Is  the  East  more  Spir- 
itual than  the  West?— "Inshallah"— Fatalism— The 
Oriental  Calm— Attitude  toward  Death— The  Mos- 
lem Lives  His  Religion — His  Devotions — Total  Ab- 
stinence—The Oriental  not  Worldly— His  Mind 
Dwells  on  Eternity  and  not  on  Material  Things — Ori- 
ental and  Occidental  Attitudes 

XIII     Peculiar  Rites  and  Beliefs  of  Islam    .         .         241 

The  Night  of  Power  at  St.  Sophia— Its  Impressive- 
ness — The  Power  of  Fanaticism — Howling  Der- 

[xiii] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

vishes — Phenomena  for  the  Abnormal  Psychologist 
to  Study — Strange  Immunity  from  Pain  and  In- 
jury— Incredulity  and  the  Unexplained — Religious 
Parallels— The  Dancing  Dervishes— The  Bektashis— 
General  Observations  on  the  Dervishes — The  Ghastly 
Persian  Festival — The  Month  of  Ramazan — Night 
Scenes — Bayram 

XIV     Faith  Healing  in  the  Orient       .         .         .         269 

Faith  Healing  among  the  Howling  Dervishes — 
Sacred  Springs — Holy  Men — Forms  of  Magic — 
Professional  Healers — Peculiar  Religious  Survivals 
— Mohammedan  Superstitions — The  Mohammedan 
View  of  Death — Mohammedan  Cemeteries 

XV     Brotherhood  of  East  and  West  ...         285 

Contact  through  Education — The  Ideal  of  World 
Peace — The  East  and  the  West — Emerson  the  Great 
Interpreter  of  the  East  to  the  West— Oriental  Re- 
ligions Broad — The  Broadening  Effect  of  Education 
—The  Awakening  of  the  East— An  Ideal  Civiliza- 
tion Would  Result  from  the  Mingling  of  the  Oriental 
and  Occidental  Elements — America's  Opportunity — 
The  Brotherhood  of  Man 


[xiv] 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

Author Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

The  Sweet  Waters  of  Asia 18 

An   Original   Turk 24 

A  Typical  Untamed  Turk 80 

Typical  Turkish  Citizens 49 

A  Typical  Turkish  House 68 

Gypsy  Women 68 

A  Vender  of  Liquorice  Water         ....  97 

An  Old  Style  Turk 130 

A  Training  Class  of  Turkish  Girls         .         .         .  146 

A  Group  from  American  College  for  Girls    .         .  164 

A  Turkish  Mullah 188 

Turks  travelling  Deck  Passage     ....  198 

Some  Queer  Deck  Passengers         .         .         .         .  198 

St.  Sophia 245 

A  Turkish  Coffee  Shop 264 

The  Ancient  Hippodrome  of  Constantinople  .         .  276 

The  Buffalo  Ox-Team .,297 

A  Turkish  Family  from  Bokhara  ....  297 

Walls  and  Tower  built  by  Mohammed  .           .         .  Cover 


[XT] 


CHARACTER  AND  CLIMATE 


CHAPTER  I 

CHARACTER  AND  CLIMATE 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  which  a  truly 
progressive  Turkey  will  always  have  to  face  is 
the  enervating  nature  of  her  climate.  There  is 
a  close  connection  between  character  and  climate. 
Changes  in  the  Persian  climate,  for  example, 
since  ancient  times  are  claimed  by  some  to  be 
largely  responsible  for  the  degeneration  of  the 
inhabitants,  especially  in  regard  to  honesty. 
The  ancient  Persians  were  renowned  for  their 
honesty;  the  Persians  of  today  are  renowned  for 
the  opposite.  The  sexual  degeneracy  of  South- 
ern races,  the  vigor  of  Northern  peoples,  the 
phlegmatic  temperament  of  the  English,  the 
nervousness  of  the  American,  the  pessimism  of 
the  Hindu,  the  laziness  and  politeness  of  people 
in  warm  climes,  the  psychic  nature  of  those 
dwelling  in  high  altitudes, — all  these  differences 
may  be  traced  with  some  reason  to  climate. 

When  an  American  first  comes  to  Turkey  he 

[3] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

brings  with  him  all  the  vigor  and  energy  which 
is  the  peculiar  gift  of  the  American  climate.  He 
looks  with  disdain  upon  the  slow-moving  Orien- 
tals and  ridicules  their  shiftless  and  easy-going 
ways.  To  a  typical  Chicagoan,  the  lazy  Turk 
is  a  being  who  has  hardly  any  right  to  existence ; 
and  he  loves  to  picture  the  benefit  the  East  would 
gain  if  it  could  be  peopled  with  a  lot  of  hustling 
Americans  like  himself. 

For  the  first  year  or  so  he  rushes  around  in 
the  American  way,  and  accomplishes  twice  as 
much  work  as  would  be  adapted  to  Oriental 
standards.  He  feels  that  he  has  conferred  a 
blessing  on  the  Orientals  by  showing  them  how 
to  work. 

But  what  do  the  Orientals  think  about  it? 
They  look  on  and  smile,  for  they  know  that  when 
the  momentum  is  worn  out  these  busy  Americans 
must  moderate  their  pace,  or  go  to  pieces.  At 
this  point  the  laugh  is  on  the  American,  and, 
rebel  as  he  will  against  the  inevitable,  he  has 
finally  to  adapt  himself  to  the  Orient;  and  in 
time  he  becomes  a  very  good  Oriental,  or  is  worn 
out  and  goes  back  to  America. 

Kipling  has  expressed  this  so  inimitably  that 

[4] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

I  cannot  do  better  than  quote  his  poem  written 
from  his  own  experience  in  India. 

For  it  is  not  right 

For  the  Christian  white 

To  hustle  the  Aryan  brown; 
For  the  Christian  riles 
And  the  Aryan  smiles 

And  he  weareth  the  Christian  down. 

And  the  end  of  that  fight 
Is  a  tombstone  white 

With  the  name  of  the  late  deceased; 
And  an  epitaph  drear — 
"  A  fool  lies  here 

Who  tried  to  hustle  the  East." 

It  is  a  hard  lesson  for  the  American  to  learn, 
but  the  fact  is  finally  forced  upon  him  that  the 
climate  of  Turkey  is  enervating,  and  that  he 
cannot  do  much  more  than  half  the  work  he 
could  do  in  America.  One  lives  there  always 
under  low  vitality,  and  the  least  trouble  will  take 
away  that  little  vitality  and  tend  to  prostrate 
one. 

This  is  made  clear  by  the  ease  with  which  one 
falls  ill  there.  It  is  the  usual  thing  in  Robert 
College  for  every  teacher  in  the  institution  to 
have  at  least  one  week's  illness  during  the  year, 
and  there  will  always  be  several  who  are  laid  up 

[5] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

for  months.  The  hospital  is  always  full  of  stu- 
dents, who  take  their  turns,  too,  at  being  in- 
valids. Illness  there  seems  to  be  the  result  of 
exhaustion.  It  may  take  the  form  of  a  cold,  a 
stomach  trouble,  or  nervous  debilitation,  but 
it  simply  means  low  vitality,  and  medicine  is  not 
so  much  needed  as  rest  and  food  to  build  up  the 
system.  When  such  an  attack  comes  it  cannot 
be  fought  off,  as  in  the  bracing  climate  of  Amer- 
ica, but  must  be  yielded  to:  postponement  only 
means  worse  illness  in  the  end. 

Another  thing  which  is  peculiar  is  the  ease 
with  which  one  takes  cold.  The  slightest  draft 
is  sufficient  for  this.  It  is  generally  true  that  if 
you  feel  cold,  you  will  catch  cold.  This  is  doubt- 
less the  reason  why  the  Orientals  bundle  them- 
selves up  so.  Even  in  summer  they  wear  heavy 
woolens  and  overcoats,  when  not  in  the  sun. 
This  is  one  of  the  first  customs  to  be  noticed  and 
ridiculed  by  the  Americans :  but  there  is  a  reason 
for  it  in  the  lowness  of  vitality  and  the  dampness 
of  the  climate.  Even  in  warm  weather  it  is  not 
safe  to  lie  on  the  ground  in  the  shade  if  there  is 
much  of  a  breeze. 

One  American  teacher,  a  football  hero  and 

[6] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

athlete  in  his  own  college,  who  had  hardly  known 
a  sick  day  in  his  life,  contracted  bronchitis 
during  his  first  month  by  going  to  sleep  under 
an  open  window — and  much  to  his  surprise  and 
disgust  he  was  in  bed  a  month.  Had  he  yielded 
to  his  cold  immediately,  a  week  would  probably 
have  sufficed  to  restore  his  health,  but  by  trying 
to  fight  it  off,  and  continuing  to  stay  on  his  feet, 
he  merely  increased  his  period  of  illness. 

It  is  by  such  experiences  one  learns  that 
in  the  Orient  the  Anglo-Saxon  method  of  stand- 
ing up  to  a  foe  and  braving  him  is  not  always  the 
wisest.  Just  as  it  is  best  to  succumb  to  illness,  so 
it  is  often  best  to  succumb  to  other  things,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  the  climate  of  the  East  has  some- 
thing to  do  with  the  indirect  methods  pursued 
there.  As  Kipling  has  said,  you  cannot  drive 
the  East.  They  are  not  used  to  such  methods, 
and  their  whole  mode  of  life  is  based,  not  on 
fight — incessant  struggle — but  on  finding  the 
line  of  least  resistance. 

In  this  enervating  climate  one  can  take,  and 
indeed  needs,  more  stimulants  than  in  a  more 
vigorous  climate.  I  found  that,  although  of  a 
nervous  temperament,  I  could  drink  tea  and 

[7] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

coffee  and  smoke  cigarettes  without  noticing 
any  of  the  bad  effects  which  they  would  have 
upon  me  in  America.  The  Turks  smoke  all  day 
long  without  becoming  nervous.  I  found  also 
that  I  could  not  skip  a  meal,  as  I  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  doing  when  in  a  hurry.  In  America,  if 
one  is  pressed  for  time  he  makes  a  lunch  of  an 
egg-shake  or  a  piece  of  chocolate,  and  goes  on 
with  his  work  till  the  evening  meal.  But  this  is 
impossible  in  Turkey.  If  you  eat  but  little  at 
noon,  by  four  or  five  o'clock  you  feel  completely 
tired  out,  having  that  sensation  of  being  "all 
gone" — "gevshek"  as  the  Turks  call  it — which 
makes  you  depressed  and  incapable  of  doing 
much.  It  is  wonderful  what  effect  a  little  food 
will  have  upon  you  at  this  juncture:  quickly  your 
spirits  rise,  and  you  are  able  to  go  about  your 
work  again  or  to  continue  your  shopping. 

It  is  the  universal  custom  among  Americans 
and  Europeans  living  in  Constantinople  to  have 
afternoon  tea  at  four  or  five  o'clock.  The  old 
inhabitants  could  no  more  do  without  that  than 
without  their  dinner.  The  new-coming  Amer- 
icans laugh  at  this  custom,  for  afternoon  teas  are 
generally  a  subject  of  ridicule  with  American 

in 


THE    REAL    TURK 

men;  but  in  time  they  fall  in  with  it — and  a  de- 
lightful custom  it  is,  apart  from  its  dietetic 
necessity.  As  a  social  function,  it  fills  a 
place  in  life  which  no  American  institution 
supplies. 

As  the  climate  of  England  is  somewhat  sim- 
ilar to  that  of  Constantinople,  I  imagine  the 
large  amount  of  food  eaten  by  the  English  and 
their  afternoon  teas  are  natural  results  of  cli- 
mate. In  fact  the  diet  of  every  nation  is  natur- 
ally adapted  to  its  climate.  Americans  who  live 
in  London  come  to  feel  the  need  of  tea;  Kipling 
said  recently  to  one  of  them:  "The  difference  be- 
tween America  and  England  is  this.  Our  cli- 
mate is  so  depressing  that  we  have  to  stimulate 
ourselves  all  the  time  with  food  and  drink, — 
while  yours  is  so  bracing  that  you  can  run  across 
a  Carpet  and  then  light  the  gas  from  the  electric- 
ity in  your  fingers." 

Orientals  take  a  nap  after  the  midday  meal; 
and  although  Constantinople  is  by  no  means 
a  tropical  city,  being  on  the  same  latitude  as  New 
York,  yet  Americans  who  live  there  any  length 
of  time  find  this  nap  a  necessity.  Generally  very 
little  work  is  done  in  the  afternoon.  A  nap 

[9] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

after  dinner,  then  a  short  spell  of  work,  then 
afternoon  tea,  and  a  stroll  before  supper,  is  the 
ordinary  program.  After  dinner  at  noon  you 
begin  to  feel  more  and  more  sleepy;  your  eyes 
become  so  prickly  that  you  can  hardly  see;  and 
there  is  no  greater  bliss  than  to  yield  to  this  de- 
lightful sensation  and  float  off  to  slumberland. 
One  awakens  refreshed  and  happy,  in  good  con- 
dition for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

I  stopped  once  for  a  week  with  a  group  of 
Persian  friends.  After  lunch  they  would  all 
roll  up  in  their  yorgans  on  the  Oriental  couches, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  every  one  would  be  asleep. 
At  about  three  o'clock  they  would  begin  to  stir, 
and  one  after  another  would  awake  and  sit  up. 
When  all  were  awake,  tea  would  be  prepared, 
and  the  intervening  time  spent  in  conversation. 
Then  a  stroll  at  sunset  would  bring  the  day  to 
a  delightful  close. 

The  morning  is  reserved  for  work,  the  after- 
noon for  rest  and  recreation,  and  the  evening 
given  partly  to  work  and  partly  to  social  pleas- 
ures. The  longer  you  stay  in  the  Orient  the 
harder  it  is  to  study  or  work  in  the  evening  after 
a  heavy  dinner.  The  Orientals  themselves  go  to 

[10] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

bed  with  the  sun  like  the  birds,  and  rise  with  it. 
In  the  summer  they  put  in  many  hours  of  work 
before  the  European  is  awake. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  enervating  effects  of 
this  climate  upon  the  body.  It  has  similar  ef- 
fects upon  the  mind.  This  delicate  organ,  which 
responds  so  sensitively  to  conditions  of  the  body, 
seems  to  lose  its  vivacity  and  clearness.  One 
finds  it  difficult  to  think  incisively.  Dreamy, 
speculative  thinking  is  delightful,  but  mathe- 
matical thinking  a  burden.  This  is  probably 
why  Orientals  are  so  poor  in  mathematics  and 
exact  sciences. 

Forgetfulness  becomes  a  habit.  You  cannot 
carry  anything  in  your  mind.  Errands,  duties, 
appointments,  are  all  likely  to  be  forgotten,  un- 
less careful  note  is  made.  If  you  want  anything 
done  by  another  person,  you  have  to  remind  him 
several  times  before  he  remembers  to  do  it.  This 
is  true  even  of  men  in  administrative  positions, 
where,  if  anywhere,  you  would  expect  to  find 
exactness.  The  climate  exercises  its  effect  upon 
all,  from  room-servant  to  college  president. 
Even  troubles  do  not  stay  on  your  mind  if  they 
are  of  the  future — you  forget  to  worry!  Thus 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  natural  state  of  the  Oriental  mind  is  one  of 
dreamy  meditation,  which  is  delightful. 

When,  however,  you  have  to  give  a  lecture  or 
write  an  article,  this  condition  interferes,  for  you 
find  it  hard  then  to  collect  the  thoughts,  to  think 
clearly,  and  to  retain  the  subject  as  a  whole. 
Lack  of  vitality  makes  lectures  lack  vigor  and 
takes  the  fire  out  of  one's  style.  You  never  hear 
a  piece  of  oratory  or  impassioned  delivery. 
Strangely  enough,  it  becomes  almost  impossible 
to  write.  Style  demands  energy,  vitality,  and 
you  haven't  it  to  give.  Finally  the  time  conies 
when  you  can  hardly  compose  at  all.  Yet  let  one 
go  to  the  invigorating  climate  of  Switzerland, 
among  the  eternal  snows  for  a  few  weeks,  and 
composition  again  becomes  easy. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  motto  of  the  East  is, 
"Never  do  today  what  you  can  put  off  till  to- 
morrow." One  might  think  this  a  caricature  of 
the  Oriental,  but  it  is  absolutely  true.  And  in 
fact,  why  should  you  do  today  what  you  can  put 
off  till  tomorrow?  Are  we  any  happier  with  the 
opposite  rule  of  conduct?  In  our  sanitariums 
and  hospitals  are  many  people  who  are  broken- 
down,  miserable  and  unfit  for  work,  because  they 

[12] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

tried  to  do  everything  today,  and  left  nothing  for 
the  morrow  but  nervous  prostration  and  the  rest- 
cure.  The  Orientals  take  their  rest  as  they  go 
along,  and  sanitariums  are  unknown  among 
them. 

The  result  of  such  a  maxim  is  a  tendency  to 
let  all  things  go.  If  one  has  a  piece  of  business 
to  attend  to,  he  puts  it  off  as  long  as  possible 
and  spends  little  time  worrying  about  it.  Re- 
pairs are  delayed  until  they  become  absolutely 
necessary,  and  often  they  are  postponed  beyond 
the  point  where  they  will  do  any  good.  When 
the  Turks,  by  some  miracle,  do  construct  a  good 
road,  they  leave  it  after  its  completion  in  the 
hands  of  God;  such  a  thing  as  keeping  it  in  re- 
pair is  beyond  their  comprehension.  Each  suc- 
cessive rainy  season  washes  a  bit  from  the  road, 
until  finally  not  only  the  surfacing  is  carried 
away,  but  the  foundation  is  ruined  in  many 
places;  and  when  the  road  becomes  impassable, 
the  teams  turn  out  into  the  fields  and  form  cart- 
paths  there,  so  that  it  is  not  uncommon  to  run 
across  paved  roads  which,  once  highways  but 
now  unused,  are  paralleled  by  roads  struck  out 
through  the  original  soil. 

[13] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Similarly,  Turkish  bridges  are  always  out  of 
repair.  If  a  route  in  the  interior  crosses  many 
bridges,  you  may  be  sure  it  will  be  impracticable 
to  follow  it,  for  some  of  the  bridges  will  be  in 
ruins;  so  you  would  better  take  a  route  that 
crosses  the  streams  by  fords,  which  never  need 
mending. 

One  of  the  saddest  sights  in  Turkey  is  a  de- 
serted palace — gradually  falling  into  ruins.  The 
damp  climate  of  the  Bosphorus  hastens  decay, 
and  the  stucco  and  plaster  peel  from  the  walls. 
Many  palaces  which  once  cost  immense  sums  are 
left  to  the  mercy  of  the  elements. 

Until  the  Turks  change  their  nature  it  would 
be  ludicrous  to  expect  them  to  adopt  agricultural 
machines.  At  the  first  disaster  to  the  machine 
they  would  leave  it  standing  in  the  fields,  putting 
off  repairs  until  rain  and  rust  would  have  ren- 
dered it  worthless. 

It  is  true  that  under  the  new  regime  the 
Turks  are  waking  up  somewhat.  That  they  can 
exercise  care  and  system  is  evidenced  by  the  dis- 
cipline in  their  army.  The  Young  Turks  took 
hold  of  the  navy,  too,  which  Abdul  Hamid  had 
left  to  rot  in  the  Golden  Horn,  and  they  have 

[14] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

developed  it  to  a  good  degree  of  efficiency.  The 
Turks  are  not  incapable  of  using  the  mechanism 
of  modern  civilization,  in  spite  of  the  drawbacks 
of  climate.  Yet  it  is  significant  that  the  leaders 
in  the  revolution  had  been  living  for  years,  not  in 
Constantinople,  but  in  Europe,  to  which  they 
had  been  exiled.  When  the  crisis  came  they 
acted  with  a  dash  and  energy  which  was  due 
largely  to  their  European  environment  and  cli- 
mate. Ali  Risa,  the  first  President  of  the  Senate 
and  political  leader  of  the  Young  Turks,  had 
been  for  years  in  Paris ;  and  Chevket  Pasha,  once 
the  most  able  personality  in  all  Turkey,  and  its 
practical  dictator,  who  conducted  the  capture  of 
Constantinople  so  ably  as  to  call  forth  the  praise 
of  Europe's  best  strategists,  had  been  trained 
for  twelve  years  in  Germany,  And  so  with 
many  other  military  and  political  leaders. 

I  really  doubt  that  the  revolution  could  have 
been  carried  out  so  successfully  had  it  not 
profited  by  this  vigor  brought  from  Europe. 
The  climate  of  the  Bosphorus  is  too  depressing, 
too  conducive  to  inactivity  and  inertia,  to  make 
possible  a  bold  and  well-organized  movement. 

I  have  been  showing  some  of  the  unpleasant 

[16] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

features  of  Turkish  climate.  Let  me  now  de- 
scribe its  joys.  There  are  few  places  in  the 
world  where  one  could  be  happier,  provided  he 
had  no  responsibilities.  The  very  absence  of 
worry,  the  inability  to  think  long  on  bothersome 
things,  is  conducive  to  peace  and  joy.  The  mind 
is  at  rest.  It  can  lose  itself  in  dreams  and  vi- 
sions, care-free,  oblivious  of  time.  In  addition 
to  the  charm  of  scenery  unsurpassed  in  the 
world  and  the  bright  blue,  intoxicating  sky, 
there  is  a  certain  feeling  due  peculiarly  to  the 
climate  which  amounts  to  an  ecstasy — a  joy 
which  I  have  never  felt  elsewhere  than  in  the 
East.  Travellers  remark  on  it;  you  will  find  it 
described  in  books  on  the  East.  And  the  Turks 
have  a  name  for  it — they  call  it  "kef." 

There  are  two  words  in  Turkish  in  which  the 
newcomer  can  see  little  difference — "rdhat"  and 
"kef;"  "rahat"  means  "rest,"  "cessation  of  ac- 
tivity," and  this  idea  is  common  to  all  countries — 
we  all  of  us  at  times,  when  we  are  tired,  sit  down 
to  rest — but  efkef3  is  something  quite  different, 
something  unique:  it  is  cessation  not  only  of 
physical  activity,  but  also  of  mental — a  kind  of 
intoxicated  dream-state,  a  trance  due  to  the  at- 

[16] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

mosphere.  In  spring  the  Turks  will  sit  on  the 
hillsides  and  smoke  and  dream  this  way  for  min- 
utes at  a  time — sometimes  for  hours.  They  call 
it  "making  kef."  When  you  have  a  Turkish  stu- 
dent who  "makes  kef  in  class,  he  is  hopeless. 
No  part  of  the  lesson  sinks  into  his  mind.  He 
smiles  when  you  call  on  him,  and  tries  to  an- 
swer your  questions,  but  his  thoughts  are  far 
away. 

I  have  stood  leaning  against  our  terrace  wall, 
in  the  beauty  of  spring,  and  gazed  for  long  min- 
utes at  certain  shrubs  and  flowers  which  were 
bright  with  sunshine,  until  my  thoughts  seemed 
to  soar  away  beyond  the  confines  of  space  and  of 
time.  It  is  as  easy  to  be  a  mystic  in  the  East  as 
it  is  to  be  practical  in  the  West. 

Have  we  ever  stopped,  I  wonder,  to  consider 
that  our  extreme  activity  in  America  is  the  result 
of  climate?  One  can  even  see  differences  in  this 
respect  in  the  different  latitudes  and  sections  of 
our  country.  The  New  England  people  and 
New  Yorkers  hustle  much  more  than  the  people 
of  Washington;  and  if  you  go  still  further  south, 
you  will  find  men  sitting  on  their  shady  veran- 
das, smoking  and  sipping  mint  juleps  and 

[17] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

dreaming  in  quite  good  Turkish  style:  they  are 
really  "making  kef!" 

How  changed  is  the  feeling  in  Constantinople 
from  that  in  New  York!  Whenever  I  am  in  the 
latter  city,  I  feel  uneasy  at  the  thought  of  even 
half  an  hour's  going  to  waste.  "Isn't  there 
something  I  can  do  to  fill  in  the  time  profita- 
bly?" I  think.  But  in  Constantinople,  after  a 
certain  amount  is  done,  one  says,  "Well,  that's 
enough — let's  sit  down  and  rest  awhile."  Then 
come  Turkish  coffee  and  cigarettes  and  "kef" — 
and  in  half  an  hour  you  are  ready  to  begin  over 
again.  The  difference  between  the  West  and  the 
East,  in  a  word,  is  this:  here  we  do  not  like  to 
sit  down;  there  we  do  not  like  to  get  up.  Here 
leisure  is  a  sin ;  there  it  is  a  virtue ! 

Our  American  habit  of  crowding  every  mo- 
ment and  of  seeking  recreation  in  violent  and  ex- 
citing forms  is  the  result  of  our  air.  Such  a  life, 
feverish  in  its  activity,  does  not  make  one  really 
happy,  and  is  bound  to  lead  at  last  to  a  break- 
down. In  the  East,  one  does  not  have  to  plan 
theater  parties,  games  or  crowded  excursions  in 
order  to  be  happy,  since  one  is  happy  merely  to 
exist.  Pleasant  repose  is  as  natural  to  Orientals 

[18] 


•«!<•» 


frl 

as     ? 

I      ,4 

Si*  &i  *»   -O 

S-S-* 

ny 

O    ^    ^     §4 


'$     §   -S 

Jl 


THE    REAL    TURK 

as  activity  is  to  us.  Even  the  laborer  enjoys  his 
work ;  and  the  farmer  becomes  a  poet. 

I  have  often  thought  that  the  East  may  in 
time  become  our  great  sanitarium.  Just  as  the 
Orientals  who  come  to  our  country  learn  to  work 
and  to  hustle,  so  Americans  who  go  to  the  East 
learn  repose.  A  few  years  there  will  change 
restless,  nervous  habits  into  calmness  and  poise. 
Worry  ceases.  Desire,  which  is  the  chief  source 
of  anxieties,  disappears.  If  you  can't  do  a  thing 
you  have  planned,  you  say,  "Never  mind,  it 
was  not  important;"  if  there  is  something  you 
need  but  cannot  get,  you  say,  "Well,  I  can  do 
without  it;"  if  there  is  a  play  you  want  to  see,  a 
trip  you  want  to  make,  a  friend  you  want  to  visit, 
and  things  stand  in  the  way,  you  say,  "Some 
other  time."  Thus  the  East  creeps  in  upon  you 
with  its  feeling  of  resignation — and  you  grow 
fat  and  healthy  and  forget  that  you  have  nerves. 

In  concluding  this  chapter  I  cannot  do  better 
than  to  repeat  a  passage  which  was  written  while 
I  was  still  in  Constantinople,  in  the  midst  of  its 
wonderful  charms. 

What  a  fascination  the  East  exerts — how  tranquil  life 
is  here,  and  how  peaceful !  When  one  thinks  of  departing, 

[19] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

it  seems  like  leaving  a  comfortable  fireside  where  one  has 
been  sitting  dreaming,  to  go  into  the  cold  world  outside; 
yet  America  is  the  world,  and  this  only  a  dream,  a  ravish- 
ing dream. 

One  cannot  work  here — nobody  does  that — but  one  can 
merely  live  and  feel  happy.  One  does  not  crave  excite- 
ment. Life  itself  is  joyous,  and  the  goal  of  each  day  is  to 
get  through  the  day's  work. 

This  is  not  thoroughly  satisfactory  to  a  New  England 
conscience  bred  in  the  American  atmosphere  of  constantly- 
increasing  accomplishment.  One's  work  should  be  the 
greatest  source  of  one's  pleasure.  Here  it  is  not — no  one 
goes  about  his  work  with  zest. 

But  how  sweet  are  the  leisure  hours,  when  you  curl  up 
on  your  couch  with  a  book  in  your  lap — no  responsibility — 
nothing  to  do  but  to  read  and  dream.  Oh,  the  dreams  that 
come  to  one  here — the  utter  sense  of  the  joy  of  living — 
the  mystical  anticipation  of  unknown  joys  awaiting  you. 
This  is  the  greatest  joy  the  East  has  to  offer — the  joy  of 
irresponsibility. 

How  responsibility  weighs  on  one,  how  one  dreads  work, 
how  dull  duties  seem!  We  never  do  today  what  we  can 
easily  put  off  till  tomorrow.  Why  should  we  spoil  the 
present  moment,  mar  the  perfect  beauty  of  today  by  any- 
thing which  has  to  be  done  ?  Let  us  do  anything  but  that. 
Let  us  read  books  which  do  not  have  to  be  read,  write  let- 
ters that  do  not  have  to  be  written;  but  the  obligatory 
duties — how  cruel,  how  uselessly  tiring! 

But  when  one  has  described  the  joys  of  life  indoors,  he 
has  shown  but  a  hundredth  part  of  the  enchantment  of 
the  East.  Her  glory  lies  in  her  spring.  How  the  sun- 
shine pours  over  everything;  how  limpid  is  the  air — how 
heavy  with  perfume!  How  magic  the  charm  of  it 
all.  *  *  * 

Reader,  if  you  want  to  know  what  Paradise  is  on  this 
earth,  visit  Constantinople  and  the  Bosphorus  in  the  month 
of  May.  20 


THE  TURK  STILL  A  MEDIEVAL 


CHAPTER  II 

THE     TURK     STILL     A    MEDIEVAL 

IN     CHARACTER,     MENTALITY 

AND    RELIGION 

No  people  in  the  world  are  more  likable  than 
the  Turks.  They  are  kindly,  honest,  and  gen- 
erous-hearted; and  they  are  gentle  in  their  or- 
dinary life.  I  remember  one  old  man  who  sold 
beads  in  an  open-air  bazaar  in  Constantinople: 
there  he  sat  cross-legged  all  day  long,  his  white 
beard  sweeping  his  breast — a  grand  figure.  An- 
other beautiful  face  was  that  of  an  old  gardener 
in  a  medrese  which  we  visited;  he  was  a  model 
for  an  artist  to  paint,  with  a  strong,  robust  figure 
clad  in  Oriental  garb  and  a  face  full  of  simplicity 
and  power;  he  seemed  to  exhale  the  same  radi- 
ant, harmonious  life  as  his  flowers. 

Many  Americans  will  find  it  hard  to  reconcile 
this  view  of  the  Turk  with  the  stories  they  have 
heard  of  his  cruel  and  bloodthirsty  nature.  "How 
can  the  Turks  be  kind  and  gentle,"  they  ask, 
"when  they  commit  such  barbaric  deeds?" 

[23] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

It  is  just  at  this  point  that  the  Turk  is  hard 
to  understand.  He  is  kind  and  gentle  and  of 
winning  personality — yet  he  is  capable  of  the 
utmost  cruelty.  When  his  religious  fanaticism 
is  aroused  or  when  he  is  putting  down  a  rebel- 
lion, he  slays  in  cold  blood  women,  and  children 
at  the  breast;  he  burns  down  homes  and  shoots 
the  inhabitants  as  they  come  forth;  he  violates 
women  before  their  own  husbands  and  carries 
the  best  into  captivity.  A  town  which  he  ravages 
leaves  little  resemblance  to  a  human  dwelling- 
place. 

There  are  Bulgarians  and  Armenians  living 
today  who  have  gone  through  scenes  of  untold 
horror.  Naturally  they  do  not  love  the  Turks. 
Yet  the  English  and  Americans  who  live  among 
the  Turks  do  like  them  and  come  to  feel  a  real 
affection  for  them. 

You  may  meet  a  Pasha  who  will  captivate 
you  today  by  his  kindness  and  winning  personal- 
ity; and  the  next  day  he  may  have  a  prisoner 
tortured  to  death  with  perfect  unfeeling. 

Whence  these  contradictions  in  his  nature  ?  The 
assumption  that  he  is  a  hypocrite — that  his  kind- 
ness is  merely  put  on — is  not  an  explanation,  for 

[24] 


rriHE  original  Turk  fresh  from  Turki- 
1  stan,  showing  strongly  the  Mongolian 
type.  The  Turks  in  Constantinople  have  a 
large  admixture  of  Aryan  blood. 


THE    REAL    TURK 

it  is  not  true.  The  explanation  lies  in  this — that 
the  Turk  is  still  in  the  Middle  Ages.  He  is 
only  half  way  up  from  savagery.  Like  all  Ori- 
entals, he  holds  life  and  suffering  as  of  little  im- 
portance. Indifference  to  physical  pain  is  char- 
acteristic of  the  East. 

The  Oriental  does  not  differ  in  nature  from 
the  Occidental.  We  who  inherit  and  receive 
from  our  environment  an  exquisite  sensitiveness 
to  the  sufferings  of  others,  leading  us  to  establish 
hospitals,  to  care  for  the  suffering  and  to  do 
away  with  all  forms  of  cruelty,  must  not  be  too 
harsh  in  our  judgment  of  our  Eastern  brothers. 
It  is  only  a  few  centuries  ago  that  we,  too,  held 
life  and  suffering  in  little  value.  We  hanged 
men  for  stealing,  we  quartered  them  for  differ- 
ing from  us  in  political  opinions,  we  burned 
them  at  the  stake  in  order  to  save  their  souls. 
An  offense  to  a  prince  meant  more  than  ostra- 
cism from  his  society — it  meant  a  sudden  re- 
moval from  this  world.  A  grim  age — an  age 
of  bloodshed  and  horrors,  of  cruelty  and  torture 
— has  but  recently  gone,  never  to  return  to  us, 
for  we  have  risen  above  it:  from  the  Dark  Age 
of  Europe  to  the  enlightenment  of  the  twentieth 
century. 

[25] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Within  two  or  three  centuries  we  could  have 
found  in  England  the  prototype  of  the  modern 
Turk — the  cultured  English  gentlemen,  the 
kindly,  dignified  merchant,  who  could  witness 
with  calmness  torture,  execution  and  burning 
at  the  stake.  That  it  is  not  Christianity  alone 
which  has  produced  this  twentieth  century  gen- 
tleness the  religious  tortures  of  the  Middle  Ages 
bear  witness.  In  a  cruel  age,  Christianity  was 
also  cruel.  In  the  name  of  Christ  people  under- 
went tortures  of  every  conceivable  form,  and 
perished  at  the  stake.  Refinement  of  feeling  is 
a  natural  result  of  a  peaceful,  segregated  life. 
Our  nerves  are  too  sensitive  to  witness  the  shed- 
ding of  blood.*  We  are  not  cruel  physically,  but 
our  age  is  none  the  less  cruel.  We  can  let  hun- 
dreds be  maimed  and  killed  in  order  to  increase 
our  stocks  and  bonds.  We  can  be  coldly  in- 
different to  suffering  caused  by  us  if  it  goes 
on  at  a  distance. 

Yet  this  much  has  been  gained:  physical  gen- 
tleness and  kindness  hold  sway  in  the  twentieth 

*  I  would  suggest  also  the  thought  that  much  of  our  sympathy 
for  human  suffering  is  a  direct  result  of  what  medical  science  has 
done  in  the  last  century  in  eliminating  unnecessary  causes  of  sick- 
ness and  death.  The  constant  view  of  unpreventable  physical  suf- 
fering causes  indifference  to  it  such  as  we  now  see  in  the  East. 

[26] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

century,  and  we  do  not  have  to  fear  the  rack,  the 
sword,  or  the  stake.  A  difference  of  opinion 
does  not  necessarily  mean  death,  or  even  im- 
prisonment. Our  feudal  lords  may  exact  reve- 
nue from  us  in  the  price  of  oil,  beef,  wool,  and 
other  commodities  of  life,  but  they  have  no  di- 
rect power  over  our  persons.  The  highest  gen- 
tleman in  the  land  may  not  wilfully  strike  the 
meanest  servant. 

The  Orientals  are  still  in  the  Dark  Age:  they 
have  not  yet  cultivated  a  sensitiveness  to  suffer- 
ing. Numerous  forms  of  torture  still  exist  with 
them,  delightful  in  their  simplicity.  In  Samar- 
kand it  has  been  the  custom  to  throw  criminals 
from  a  high  tower  in  the  center  of  the  city;  an- 
other form  of  execution  was  dragging  them  over 
roughly-paved  streets  behind  swift  horses;  a 
still  more  interesting  death  awaited  political  of- 
fenders in  the  shape  of  a  deep  pit  full  of  loath- 
some vermin,  where  the  victim  is  gradually  eaten 
up. 

In  Teheran  a  few  years  ago  three  men  suc- 
ceeded in  affecting  a  corner  in  wheat — Orientals 
who  had  admirably  caught  the  financiering 
spirit  of  the  twentieth  century.  As  the  price  of 

[27] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

wheat  went  up  suffering  was  naturally  caused 
among  the  poor.  Not  being  able  to  view  the 
subject  in  a  scientific  way,  these  unfortunate 
people  laid  the  blame  for  their  hardships  upon 
the  three  financiers,  and  seizing  hold  of  their  per- 
sons, crucified  them  upside  down  in  the  public 
square.  This  is  said  to  be  a  very  painful  death, 
as  all  the  blood  descends  into  the  head,  bringing 
enormous  pressure  upon  the  brain.  Thus  do  the 
Persians  rebel  against  the  enlightenment  of 
twentieth  century  financiering. 

One  of  the  worst  governors  in  Persia,  just  be- 
fore the  Revolution,  appropriated  the  estate  of 
a  subject.  This  man  had  the  hardihood  to  ap- 
pear before  him  and  demand  his  land  back  again. 
The  governor  said,  "Why,  you  have  a  lot  of  gall 
to  come  to  me  and  ask  for  your  land.  I  should 
be  interested  to  see  just  how  large  your  gall 
bladder  is."  With  that  he  had  two  of  his  serv- 
ants cut  the  man  open  and  take  his  gall  bladder 
out.  He  looked  at  it  and  said:  "Yes,  it  is  quite 
large.  Now  I  will  give  you  your  land.  I  hope 
you  will  enjoy  it."  In  a  few  hours  the 
unfortunate  man  was  dead.  That  governor 
is  living  today  in  Paris,  and  if  you  were 

[28] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

to  meet  him,  you  would  be  charmed  by  his 
manners. 

Terrible  massacres  took  place  in  Persia  on  ac- 
count of  religious  fanaticism  against  the  Babis. 
They  were  butchered  in  many  horrible  ways — 
gashes  were  cut  in  the  flesh  and  burning  candles 
inserted ;  pitch  was  burnt  on  top  of  men's  heads ; 
babies  were  dashed  against  walls. 

The  same  barbarous  treatment  was  accorded 
to  Armenians  by  Abdul  Hamid.  Whole  villages 
were  cut  to  pieces — men,  women  and  children. 
The  wounded  were  piled  on  brush-wood  soaked 
in  kerosene  and  burned  alive.  Women  were  cut 
open  before  their  husbands'  eyes.  While  the 
Turks  were  responsible  for  these  massacres,  they 
did  not  actively  participate  in  them.  The 
bloody  work  was  done  by  the  Kurds,  a  tribe 
much  more  savage  and  uncivilized  than  the 
Turks.  Some  of  the  Turks  even  sheltered  their 
Armenian  neighbors.  The  responsibility  rests 
upon  the  shoulders  of  Abdul  Hamid  and  his  ad- 
visors. This  cruel  tyrant  had  many  ways  of  tor- 
turing Young  Turks  suspected  of  liberalism. 
Boiling  eggs  were  placed  under  their  armpits — 
a  torture  which  soon  drives  the  victim  insane;  the 

[29] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

skin  was  flayed  from  a  person's  back,  mustard 
poultices  laid  next  to  the  raw  flesh,  and  the  skin 
sewed  up  again;  red-hot  irons  were  run  up  the 
body.  People  were  burned  to  death  with  kero- 
sene, and  many  a  fine  young  man  of  progressive 
ideas  found  his  bed  upon  the  bottom  of  the  Bos- 
phorus. 

These  are  only  a  few  of  the  deeds  of  horror 
that  could  be  told.  In  the  face  of  them,  can  it 
still  be  believed  that  the  Turk  is  kind  and  gentle? 
Yes,  for  it  is  true.  The  solution  of  the  problem 
rests  with  psychology.  As  it  is  said,  "Scratch 
a  Russian  and  you  will  find  a  Tartar,"  so  it  is 
true  that  beneath  the  gentle  manners  and  kind 
heart  of  every  Turk  lie  volcanic  possibilities  of 
religious  fanaticism  and  of  brutal  cruelty.  He 
has  not  yet  got  control  of  the  brute  in  him, 
though  he  is  progressing. 

Beneath  the  culture  and  civilized  exterior  of 
every  one  of  us  lie  submerged  depths  of  ferocity 
and  blood-thirstiness  waiting  for  outlet.  The 
Southern  gentleman  with  the  most  charming 
manners  and  the  kindest  heart  may  with  his  own 
hands  kindle  the  flames  that  are  to  burn  alive  the 
negro  who  has  violated  his  daughter.  Our  pas- 

[80] 


TYPICAL  untamed  Turk  at  his  hay- 
ing.     In  war  he  would  be  capable  of 
any  cruelty. 


THE    REAL    TURK 

sions  are  like  dogs  held  in  leash:  people  who 
come  to  us  by  the  front  gate  receive  our  kind 
hospitality,  but  those  who  approach  by  forbidden 
paths,  if  they  step  within  reach  of  our  ferocity, 
may  feel  its  bite. 

So  it  is  with  the  Turk.  In  ordinary  life  he  is 
affable  and  dignifiedly  courteous;  kind  to  his 
children,  to  animals  and  to  strangers.  He  sel- 
dom loses  his  temper ;  but  when  he  does,  beware ! 
He  does  not  encourage  street-fighting;  yet,  if  he 
bears  resentment,  he  may  kill. 

One  of  the  greatest  signs  of  the  awakening  of 
the  Orientals  is  their  growing  sense  of  shame  at 
atrocities.  The  influence  of  Western  civilization, 
even  at  a  distance,  is  strong  upon  them.  They 
respect  its  ideals  of  physical  refinement  and 
sensibility  to  suffering.  They  quail  before  its 
abhorrence  of  cruelty.  They  already  feel  that 
inhuman  deeds  do  not  become  the  twentieth 
century. 

With  the  establishing  of  constitutions  and  the 
consequent  check  of  despotism,  great  changes 
are  taking  place,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before 
barbaric  actions  will  be  things  of  the  past.  Al- 
ready there  has  been  a  great  refining  process  in 

[81] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  Near  East,  during  the  last  half  century;  and 
within  the  present  century  we  may  see  the  East 
purged  of  its  cruelty  and  physical  roughness, 
ready  to  join  in  a  great  world  culture,  whose 
ideals  of  gentleness  shall  not  permit  of  needless 
suffering. 

In  other  directions  it  is  interesting  to  trace 
the  medieval  character  of  the  Turkish  civiliza- 
tion. In  religion  it  is  distinctly  medieval.  Is- 
lam is  still  a  religion  of  authority.  The  voice  of 
the  priest  is  all-powerful;  he  rules  his  ignorant 
followers  through  their  ignorance.  The  Koran 
is  written  in  old  Arabic  and  cannot  be  under- 
stood even  by  those  who  know  how  to  read  mod- 
ern Arabic,  and  when  it  is  read  in  the  mosques, 
it  is  read  in  the  original.  Things  are  in  the  same 
state  as  when  Tyndall  and  Wycliff  suffered  per- 
secution in  their  efforts  to  bring  the  Bible  to  the 
level  of  the  English  people.  The  clergy,  alone 
possessing  the  key  to  the  Scriptures,  have  un- 
limited power  to  interpret  them  as  they  wish,  and 
the  complaint  of  educated  Mohammedans  is  that 
the  clergy  have  distorted  the  teachings  of  the 
Prophet. 

[32] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Already  there  is  a  movement  on  foot  to  get 
back  through  the  mass  of  priestly  interpreta- 
tions to  the  Koran  itself.  A  Protestant  wave 
is  sweeping  over  Islam.  Quietly  and  cautiously 
a  translation  of  the  Koran  into  modern  Turkish 
is  being  prepared.*  The  grip  of  the  clergy  is 
waning  in  proportion  as  the  people  are  becoming 
educated. 

It  must  be  said  in  justice  to  Islam,  however, 
that  it  has  never  been  as  fanatical  and  intolerant 
of  heresy  as  the  Christian  Church.  There  has 
never  been  any  Inquisition  in  Islam — and  per- 
secutions for  religious  differences  have  been  far 
rarer  than  in  Christianity.  The  Turks  are  the 
broadest  and  most  tolerant  of  all  Mohamme- 
dans. 

In  education,  also,  Turkey  is  still  in  the  Mid- 
dle Ages.  Its  system  is  scholastic.  The  whole 
trend  of  studies  is  religious.  The  Koran  is  the 
basis  from  elementary  school  to  university. 
More  stress  is  laid  on  memorizing  than  on  origi- 
nal thinking.  Why  should  you  do  any  thinking 

*  A   translation   made   about   40   years   ago   was    quickly   sup- 
pressed. 

[33] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

for  yourself  when  Mohammed  gave  the  solution 
to  all  the  problems  of  life? 

The  result  is  that  the  Oriental  mind  is  unsci- 
entific; it  is  marked  by  absence  of  critical  ability. 
Things  are  learned  by  rote  from  the  teacher. 
Obedience  is  given  to  intellectual  and  spiritual 
leaders  who  hand  down  the  learning  of  the  past. 
This  attitude  of  the  Turk  is  quite  different  from 
that  of  the  Greek,  who  possesses  a  natural  scien- 
tific mind,  and  always  questions. 

If  an  Oriental  accepts  a  man  as  his  spiritual 
teacher  or  master  he  follows  him  with  unquestion- 
ing loyalty,  and  absorbs  his  system  without  crit- 
icizing it.  The  dialectic  method  of  the  Greek 
mind,  matching  statement  with  question  and 
question  with  statement,  is  unknown  to  the  Ori- 
ental. If  he  asks  questions  it  is  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  criticism,  but  merely  to  draw  out  the 
teacher  and  elicit  further  information.  Usually 
he  sits  at  his  master's  feet  and  listens  in  reverent 
silence  to  his  discourse,  which  he  treasures  up  in 
his  mind  and  heart. 

A  Westerner  trying  to  question  an  Oriental 
thinker  will  quickly  find  that  he  cannot  pin  him 
down,  or  pursue  his  own  questions  to  any  logical 

[34] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

end.  After  the  first  few  questions  the  teacher 
takes  the  conversation  in  his  own  hands  and  pro- 
ceeds to  give  a  discourse  which  it  would  be  im- 
polite to  interrupt. 

Our  modern  methods  of  criticism  are  foreign 
to  the  East.  It  is  our  liberation  from  dogma- 
tism, our  freedom  to  criticize,  to  disagree,  to  find 
fault,  which  has  produced  the  wonderful  fruits 
of  European  civilization.  Investigation  must 
always  precede  scientific  discovery,  and  the  East 
never  investigates.  It  has  no  understanding  of 
the  relation  between  cause  and  effect. 

A  scholar  who  was  collecting  economic  data 
once  wrote  to  a  Mohammedan  merchant  in  an  in- 
terior Turkish  town,  asking  him  for  information 
as  to  the  population  of  the  town,  the  number  of 
caravans  entering  it,  etc.  The  Mohammedan 
wrote  back  in  indignation,  saying  that  it  was 
blasphemous  to  inquire  into  such  things.  If 
Allah  had  wanted  these  facts  to  be  known  he 
would  have  informed  his  people. 

Modern  education,  however,  is  rapidly  de- 
stroying this  naive  state  of  mind.  The  Young 
Turk  is  thoroughly  up  to  date.  His  contact  with 
European  civilization  has  opened  his  mind  to  the 

[35] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

necessity  of  scientific  methods.  Even  the  Turk 
or  Persian  who  has  studied  medicine  in  his  own 
country  has  been  forced  to  think  along  the  lines 
of  modern  science. 

A  few  generations  of  this  culture  will  make  a 
great  change  in  the  Orient.  Turkey  and  Persia 
are  both  eager  for  Western  education — in  both 
countries  there  are  leaders  who  have  received  a 
European  training  and  are  thoroughly  in  sym- 
pathy with  its  ideas,  and  their  influence  is  radiat- 
ing through  the  country.  In  the  end  it  must 
pervade  the  masses. 

The  despotism  of  the  East  is  over.  No  more 
can  its  rulers  consign  to  death  at  their  whim. 
The  Dark  Age  is  dissolving  before  the  light  of 
the  Modern  Age.  Yet  the  poise  and  peace  of 
Medievalism  in  the  Orient  have  a  charm  which 
we  would  not  wish  lost.  Will  the  East  be  able 
to  retain  this  charm? 


[36] 


THE  TURK  AS  A  CITIZEN 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  TURK  AS  A  CITIZEN 

Two  things  characterize  the  Turk  as  a  citizen 
— loyalty  to  his  Padishah  and  the  Dynasty  of 
Ottoman,  and  loyalty  to  his  religion.  In  the 
East  religion  and  government  are  inextricably 
mixed.  The  empire  founded  by  Mohammed  was 
a  theocratic  one,  ruled  over  by  the  caliphs,  who 
centered  in  one  person  the  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral succession.  The  Turkish  sultans  obtained 
the  caliphate  by  the  conquest  of  Arabia  at  the 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Therefore 
the  padishah  of  Turkey  is  not  only  the  temporal 
ruler  of  his  people,  with  the  divine  right  of  a 
king,  but  also  the  spiritual  head  of  some 
200,000,000  Mohammedans. 

Loyalty  has  ever  been  a  leading  quality  of  the 
Turk.  His  unquestioning  obedience  to  his  su- 
periors and  military  leaders  was  the  chief  cause 
of  the  victories  of  the  Turkish  armies  and  the 
marvelous  rise  to  power  of  that  vigorous  race. 
Whatever  changes  have  taken  place  in  the  gov- 

[39] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

ernment  of  Turkey,  the  rulers  have  always  been 
drawn  from  the  House  of  Ottoman,  the  founder 
of  the  Turkish  Empire.  Even  at  the  time  when 
the  Janissaries  had  such  power  that  they  could 
appoint  and  dethrone  sultans  at  will  they  never 
dreamed  of  setting  up  any  but  descendants  of 
this  dynasty,  which  has  held  a  longer  continuous 
rule  than  any  dynasty  of  Europe — a  rule  of  over 
800  years. 

This  quality  of  the  Turk  is  still  a  factor  to  be 
reckoned  with,  and,  combined  with  his  splendid 
physique,  gives  promise  of  a  rising  rather  than  a 
declining  race.  Of  the  Turk  as  soldier  we  hear 
much,  but  of  the  Turk  as  citizen  very  little,  for 
the  reason  that  as  a  citizen  he  has  hardly  begun 
to  exist  until  the  present  moment.  His  service 
to  his  country  in  the  past  has  consisted  chiefly  in 
serving  in  her  armies,  furnishing  the  material  for 
her  conquests,  and  paying  his  taxes  in  unrebel- 
lious  loyalty.  Now,  with  a  freer  government, 
come  new  duties;  and  if  Turkey  is  to  take  its 
place  among  the  enlightened  nations  of  the 
earth,  it  must  develop  capacities  of  citizenship 
among  its  subjects,  for  the  difference  between 
the  abject  subject  of  an  Oriental  despotism  and 

[40] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  thinking,  responsible  citizen  of  a  free  coun- 
try is  vast. 

A  little  incident  will  illustrate  the  change  which 
the  new  regime  has  brought  about.  One  day  a 
Turkish  friend  of  mine  decided  at  the  last  mo- 
ment to  join  a  party  which  was  leaving  at  11:30 
A.  M.  for  Roumania.  He  did  not  reach  the  city 
until  11  o'clock,  but  between  then  and  11:30  he 
managed  to  drive  to  the  passport  bureau,  get  his 
passport  and  catch  his  steamer,  and  was  quite 
proud  of  the  achievement.  Well  he  might  be. 
To  one  who  has  lived  among  the  Turks  and  seen 
their  habits,  it  was  little  short  of  a  miracle.  Under 
the  old  regime  he  could  not  have  had  his  passport 
made  out  in  less  than  two  hours  at  the  least,  and 
perhaps  a  day  would  have  been  required.  An- 
other friend  was  told  by  the  new  official  who  took 
charge  of  a  passport  bureau  that  the  man  whom 
he  had  displaced  could  hardly  read  or  write,  and 
had  made  the  entries  in  his  books  under  wrong 
headings.  All  the  papers  were  found  in  a 
wretched  state.  It  would  have  taken  this  for- 
mer official  a  long  time  to  gather  his  wits  to- 
gether and  go  through  the  laborious  process  of 
copying  down  the  data  and  making  out  your 

[41] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

passport,  and  if  you  had  tried  to  hurry  him  he 
would  have  grown  angry  and  stopped  alto- 
gether. 

Government  in  the  East  is  a  very  antiquated 
affair.  It  has  hardly  changed  since  the  most  an- 
cient times.  It  has  always  been  one  of  des- 
potism at  the  center,  with  little  despots  in  the 
provinces  more  or  less  amenable  to  the  great  des- 
pot who  ruled  the  whole  country.  Under  the 
heads  of  provinces  were  lesser  rulers,  all  despots, 
down  to  the  local  despots  in  towns  and  cities. 
All  of  these  officials  were  responsible  to  those 
above  them  for  results,  but  not  for  methods.  So 
long  as  they  paid  the  required  taxes  and  no  com- 
plaints reached  their  superiors,  they  were  safe; 
and  it  was  difficult  for  a  subject  to  get  a  com- 
plaint past  his  own  ruler  to  the  ruler  higher 
up,  as  can  well  be  imagined.  And  if  the  com- 
plaint did  arrive,  justice  might  or  might  not  be 
done. 

In  the  matter  of  taxes  the  method  was  to 
squeeze  as  hard  as  possible.  If  a  lemon  which 
has  the  reputation  of  being  juicy  does  not  yield 
enough  juice,  it  must  be  squeezed  harder.  There 
were  various  ways  of  squeezing,  more  or  less 

[42] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

brutal,  from  moral  pressure  down  to  physical 
pressure.  Hence  the  thing  for  the  individual 
taxpayer  to  do  was  to  keep  inconspicuous  and 
give  no  appearance  of  prosperity.  Prominent 
heads  were  the  first  to  be  cut  off.  That  this 
system  is  a  deadening  and  stagnating  one,  all 
history  has  borne  testimony.  Ambition  and 
prosperity  are  rewarded  with  extortion,  perhaps 
death.  A  premium  is  put  upon  commonplace- 
ness. 

When  you  wanted  anything  done,  you  bribed 
the  official  nearest  you;  if  he  did  not  respond, 
you  went  one  step  higher  and  gave  a  larger  bribe 
to  the  next  higher  official,  and  so  on  up  the 
scale — until,  if  your  enterprise  was  a  large  one, 
you  might  lay  a  gift  upon  the  altar  of  the  sultan 
himself.  Sometimes  you  might  save  trouble  by 
sizing  up  your  men,  and  might  settle  the  matter 
immediately  by  bribing  the  right  man  with  the 
right  amount  the  very  first  time. 

Under  this  system  no  salaries  were  ever  paid. 
The  officials  reimbursed  themselves  from  their 
positions.  If  they  took  too  much  it  was  likely  to 
get  to  the  ears  of  the  sultan  and  they  were  in 
danger.  Thus  a  certain  limit  was  set,  depending 

[43] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

upon  the  governor's  pull  with  the  chief  execu- 
tive. All  the  government  administration,  all 
transaction  of  business,  and  even  the  administra- 
tion of  justice,  were  carried  on  in  this  way.  It 
has  been  the  method  of  governing  in  the  East 
from  time  immemorial — and  exists  today  all  over 
Turkey,  Persia,  India  and  China.  Graft  in  the 
Western  world  is  but  a  faint  survival  of  this 
primitive  idea,  that  the  government  is  for  the 
sake  of  the  governors. 

How  have  the  Young  Turks  faced  this  prob- 
lem? Have  they  been  able  to  make  a  radical 
change,  and  overturn  the  system  of  government 
which  has  been  in  vogue  in  the  East  ever  since 
history  began?  We  could  hardly  expect  them  to 
do  this.  There  are  not  enough  honest  men  to 
fill  the  positions,  in  the  first  place ;  and  the  hand- 
ful of  progressives  at  the  head  of  the  government 
have  a  stubborn  mass  of  common  people  to  deal 
with,  who  are  too  ignorant  to  desire  better 
things ;  and  at  the  same  time  they  are  obliged  to 
defend  themselves  from  the  hungry  wolves 
among  the  Old  Turks,  who  have  been  deprived 
of  their  spoils.  This  class  of  men,  able  rascals, 
if  we  may  so  designate  them,  who  have  no  sym- 

[44] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

pathy  with  modern  ideas  of  government,  consti- 
tute the  greatest  internal  danger  which  reformed 
Turkey  has  to  face.  Old  Turk  officials  may  still 
be  found  in  various  parts  of  the  country  in  suf- 
ficient numbers  to  prevent  speedy  reform.  It  is 
a  matter  of  education.  The  people  have  got  to 
be  educated  up  to  the  ideal  of  an  efficient  govern- 
ment, and  that  will  take  time.  It  seems  that  the 
Turks  are  sincere  in  their  efforts  to  better  their 
country.  Among  them  are  many  noble  and  pro- 
gressive men;  but  it  will  take  years  to  bring  solid 
improvements  to  pass — and  meanwhile  Turkey 
deserves  our  patient  sympathy. 

One  of  the  primal  necessities  of  a  free  citizen- 
ship is  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press.  So 
great  was  the  oppression  under  Abdul  Hamid 
that  not  only  all  public  and  journalistic  criticism 
of  the  government  was  suppressed,  but  owing  to 
the  spy  system  the  expression  of  private  opinion 
was  extremely  dangerous.  In  public  places  the 
discussion  of  politics  was  absolutely  impossible, 
and  even  in  one's  own  home  servants  and  wives 
might  be  in  the  employment  of  the  sultan. 
Hence  one  can  understand  the  statement  of  a 
prominent  Turkish  woman,  that  she  had  never 

[45] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

seen  the  word  "liberty"  in  print  until  the 
Revolution. 

But  all  this  has  been  changed.  The  Turkish 
people  have  tasted  of  liberty,  and  it  is  the  sweet- 
est drink  they  have  known.  To  be  able  to  dis- 
cuss freely  matters  of  government,  to  criticize 
if  necessary,  to  suggest  improvements — is  the 
birthright  of  every  citizen  in  this  age  of  dem- 
ocracy. When  the  Turks  stepped  into  the  pos- 
session of  this  birthright,  they  took  the  most 
important  step  of  years — of  centuries,  perhaps. 

It  is  interesting  to  see  the  new  citizenship  of 
Turkey  actually  working  out  in  its  representa- 
tive Parliament.  True,  there  are  certain  unob- 
trusive restrictions  which  greatly  limit  the  free 
powers  of  the  body;  but,  withal,  the  Turks  are 
learning  how  to  discuss,  weigh,  and  govern.  It 
is  an  inspiring  sight  to  visit  this  Parliament  and 
watch  its  proceedings.  Such  a  heterogeneous 
array  it  would  be  hard  to  find  in  any  legislative 
body!  Turks,  Arabs,  Syrians,  Albanians,  Bul- 
garians, Armenians  and  Jews  sit  side  by  side, 
peaceful  or  wrangling,  as  the  occasion  may  re- 
quire. The  guttural  remonstrances  and  criti- 
cisms from  different  parts  of  the  floor  in  a 

[46] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

strange  language  (all  the  people  speaking  at 
once  in  moments  of  excitement)  made  me  think 
of  nothing  more  than  of  a  frog  pond  in  which 
huge  frogs  raise  up  a  chorus  of  rough  bass  voices. 
Yet  there  is  something  stupendously  impressive 
in  the  thought  of  these  delegates  from  all  over 
the  Empire  coming  together  for  the  first  time  in 
free  assembly,  deliberating  and  weighing  the 
problems  of  their  nation.  In  America  the  pre- 
ponderance of  representation  is  given  to  the 
legal  profession,  while  in  Turkey  it  is  the  clergy 
who  secure  this  advantage,  as  is  shown  by  the 
sprinkling  of  white  turbans  all  over  the  assembly. 
It  was  my  good  fortune  to  travel  to  Syria  in 
the  summer  of  1910  in  the  steamer  which  was 
taking  home  the  Syrian  delegates  after  the  clos- 
ing of  the  first  year  of  Parliament.  Everywhere 
they  were  greeted  with  popular  acclaim.  At 
Constantinople  they  were  ushered  to  the  quay 
amid  soldiers,  brass  bands,  and  speeches  by  local 
celebrities.  With  similar  welcome  they  were 
greeted  at  Beyreut,  where  tents  and  decorations 
had  been  put  up,  and  cheers  rent  the  air  upon 
their  arrival.  They  could  not  have  been  more 
heartily  received  had  they  been  football  heroes 

[47] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

instead  of  mere  legislators !  I  took  the  first  train 
for  Damascus,  thinking  I  had  left  delegates  and 
reception  committee  behind — but  lo  and  behold! 
upon  the  platform  was  a  local  committee,  a  brass 
band  and  a  crowd  of  soldiers  to  receive  the  dele- 
gates who  were  on  the  same  train,  travelling  to 
the  interior.  When  I  arrived  in  Haifa  by  rail 
two  mornings  later,  there  in  the  public  square 
were  more  soldiers,  more  brass  bands,  more  local 
speakers.  Fortunately  my  modesty  and  the  ex- 
periences of  the  preceding  days  prevented  me 
from  imagining  that  all  this  was  in  my  honor. 
As  I  surmised,  they  were  waiting  for  the  arrival 
of  more  delegates,  who  had  come  less  quickly  by 
steamer  than  I  had  by  rail.  In  this  celebration 
there  was  one  thing  of  peculiar  interest — a  green 
cushion  borne  by  a  mullah,,  on  which  reposed  a 
single  hair  from  the  head  of  Mohammed.  To 
touch  this  cushion  would  bring  a  great  blessing, 
and  crowds  surged  around  it  and  a  sea  of  hands 
uplifted  strove  to  reach  the  sacred  emblem. 
Thus  were  modern  progress  and  Oriental  re- 
ligious enthusiasm  strangely  mingled. 

What  does  all  this  acclaiming  of  the  delegates 
signify?    It  signifies  that  the  people  have  tasted 

[48] 


rriWO  Turkish  citizens  of  the  best  type— 
J.  showing  admirably  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  old  and  modern  costume. 


THE    REAL    TURK 

of  liberty  and  appreciate  it.  The  seeds  of  free- 
dom are  now  firmly  planted  in  their  hearts  and 
minds.  It  means  that  Turkey  cannot  go  back  to 
absolutism  for  any  length  of  time.  Even  the 
most  pessimistic  of  Turkey's  wellwishers  do  not 
apprehend  any  overthrow  of  the  popular  govern- 
ment which  would  be  more  than  temporary. 
Great  changes  come  and  we  wonder  at  them  for 
a  time  and  then  forget  about  them.  Persia  and 
Turkey,  with  their  revolutions,  parliaments  and 
popular  governments,  have  already  passed  a  lit- 
tle below  the  horizon  of  public  notice.  At  pres- 
ent China  is  attracting  more  attention.  Yet 
the  situation  is  larger  than  any  one  country  and 
should  be  viewed  as  a  whole.  With  Persia,  Tur- 
key and  China  entering  upon  the  stage  of  popu- 
lar government,  there  is  not  now  (with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  few  obscure  states)  a  single  Oriental 
despotism  left.  This  fact  means  a  change  in  the 
whole  face  of  Eastern  civilization. 


THE  TURK  IN  BUSINESS 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  TURK  IN  BUSINESS 

Turks  are  not  naturally  traders.  Coming  into 
history  eight  centuries  ago  from  a  nomadic  life 
in  the  steppes  of  Turkestan,  they  adopted  as 
their  chief  professions  in  their  present  home  agri- 
culture, warfare,  and  beaurocracy.  There  is  no 
middle  class  among  them — from  humble  work- 
man or  servant  one  may  rise  to  nobleman.  The 
upper  classes  get  their  living  from  the  govern- 
ment by  holding  official  positions  which  are  more 
or  less  sinecures. 

Business  is  left  to  the  Greeks,  Armenians  and 
Jews  in  the  Empire,  and  to  foreigners  who  settle 
in  the  chief  cities  for  the  purpose  of  commerce. 
In  Constantinople  and  the  other  seaports  all  the 
business  is  in  the  hands  of  Jews  and  Christians 
except  for  small  eating-houses  and  bazaars  of 
Oriental  goods.  Among  Mohammedans  the 
Persians  and  Arabs  are  much  keener  business 
men  than  the  Turks.  The  Persians  are  good  at 
trading;  they  maintain  in  Constantinople  a  large 

[53] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Persian  Bazaar,  as  well  as  many  shops  in  the 
Buyak  Bazaar. 

In  business  the  Turks  are  the  most  honorable 
of  all  Orientals.  In  all  my  shopping  I  have 
found  a  great  difference  between  them  and  other 
races.  To  the  tourist  who  spends  a  few  days  at 
Smyrna  or  Constantinople  all  the  traders  seem 
alike,  a  crowd  of  robbers;  but,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  probably  cannot  distinguish  Greeks 
from  Armenians  nor  Jews  from  Turks,  since 
they  all  look  alike  to  him  in  their  red  fezes  and 
since  all  charge  enormous  prices  for  things — the 
chief  impression  which  he  carries  away  from  the 
bazaars.  After  one  has  lived  in  Turkey  awhile, 
however,  and  has  learned  to  distinguish  the 
Turks  from  traders  of  other  races,  he  begins  to 
notice  that  the  Turkish  shopkeeper  is  less  exor- 
bitant and  less  inclined  to  haggle  over  small 
amounts;  that  he  will  come  more  quickly  to  a 
reasonable  price  than  the  others;  that  he  knows 
what  the  true  price  of  his  goods  is,  and  that  if  he 
realizes  that  you  know  it,  too,  he  will  quickly 
cease  to  bargain  and  will  be  willing  to  sell  the 
thing  for  what  it  is  worth.  I  think  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  the  Turk  would  prefer  to  adopt  fixed 

[54] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

prices.  In  the  interior,  where  the  population  is 
pure  Turkish,  the  fixed  price  holds  sway,  and 
there  is  no  bargaining  at  all.  In  fact,  the  Turk 
is  not  so  cunningly  endowed  for  business  as  are 
his  neighbors,  the  Persians,  Armenians,  Greeks, 
Jews  and  Syrians. 

I  have  often  noticed  that  if  I  go  into  a  Turk- 
ish mahalabiji  (restaurant)  for  something  to 
eat  I  always  get  the  right  change  when  I  give  a 
large  coin  in  payment;  while  in  a  Greek  restau- 
rant the  owner  almost  always  cheats  me,  giving 
back  less  change  than  is  due  and  claiming  double 
the  prices  for  his  foods.  One  who  is  used  to  the 
ways  of  Greek  shopkeepers  very  seldom  gives 
them  any  money  to  change,  but  pays  them  in 
small  coins  the  current  price  of  the  food  he  has 
eaten  and  walks  out  heedless  of  the  expostula- 
tions of  the  shopkeeper,  who  almost  always  asks 
more. 

Turks  are  not  only  more  honest  as  shopkeep- 
ers, but  they  make  the  most  reliable  servants. 
The  Turkish  servant  who  comes  from  the  in- 
terior, unspoiled  by  contact  with  civilization,  is 
absolutely  honest,  faithful  and  veracious.  You 
can  trust  him  alone  in  the  house  without  fear  of 

[55] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

articles  disappearing — which  cannot  be  said  of 
men  of  the  other  races  of  the  Ottoman  Empire. 
If  sent  on  an  errand,  he  brings  back  a  true  re- 
port of  what  he  has  done.  If  commissioned  to 
buy  something  he  can  be  trusted  to  deliver  the 
right  change.  Perhaps  he  is  honest  because  he  is 
too  slow-witted  to  be  otherwise,  and  cannot 
dodge  about  the  truth  so  nimbly  as  his  more 
subtle-minded  brothers  of  the  Orient ;  but  what- 
ever the  cause,  he  deserves  credit  for  the  posses- 
sion of  this  virtue. 

The  simple  honesty  of  the  Turks  is  not  the 
only  drawback  in  their  business  careers.  Their 
inactive  temperament  and  their  religious  fatal- 
ism also  cut  short  their  profits.  They  are  not 
bending  all  their  energies  to  the  accumulation  of 
wealth  and  the  acquisition  of  fame:  they  are 
content  with  little — there  are  hardly  any  people 
in  the  world  that  are  content  with  less.  If  they 
can  earn  enough  money  in  a  day  to  buy  their 
very  simple  food  and  allow  them  a  few  hours  at 
a  coffee-shop,  which  will  cost  the  trifling  sum  of 
two  or  three  cents,  they  are  satisfied.  I  have 
often  seen  an  itinerant  fruit-  or  candy-vender 
smoking  peacefully  in  some  coffee-shop  and  en- 

[56] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

joying  rahat  (a  dreamy  condition  of  rest)  to- 
tally unconcerned  that  a  customer  was  standing 
by  his  wares  outside,  waiting  to  buy.  In  fact, 
he  had  to  be  called  before  he  would  take  notice 
of  his  customer;  and  then  he  seemed  indignant 
at  being  disturbed  from  his  rahat  for  the  few 
pennies  that  the  sale  brought  him. 

It  was  interesting  to  compare  the  service  in 
two  grocery  stores  standing  side  by  side  in 
Rumeli  Hissar,  one  run  by  Turks,  the  other  by 
Greeks. 

The  latter  were  ambitious  to  do  business,  did 
up  bundles  rapidly  and  solicited  further  trade. 
The  former,  on  the  other  hand,  appeared  very 
nonchalant ;  they  waited  on  you  with  supreme  in- 
difference, and  spent  twice  the  time  in  wrapping 
up  packages  that  the  active  Greeks  consumed. 
There  is  no  hurrying  the  Turk — a  dozen  people 
may  be  waiting  to  purchase,  but  he  weighs  out 
his  wares  and  does  them  up  with  the  same  exas- 
perating slowness  and  unhurried  calm.  If  you 
are  in  haste  you  buy  of  the  Greek;  but  if  you 
have  time  you  buy  of  the  Turk,  because  of  his 
greater  honesty  and  the  friendly  smile  with  which 
he  greets  his  old  customers.  He  is  ready  to  do 

[57] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

you  any  little  favor,  for  which  he  would  indig- 
nantly refuse  a  tip. 

In  methods  of  industry  and  business  the  Medie- 
val form  holds  sway.  Hand  work  is  the  rule. 
Industrialism  has  not  yet  struck  the  Orient — to 
which  fact  we  owe  the  beautiful  hand-made  ar- 
ticles which  characterize  the  East.  You  may 
stroll  through  the  bazaars  of  Constantinople  and 
see  men  in  little  booths  cutting  out  various 
shapes  of  wood  with  hand  lathes,  working  at 
baskets,  shaping  and  painting  coarse  china. 
They  work  slowly  but  deftly.  Their  hours  are 
long,  but  their  labor  dignifies  instead  of  degrad- 
ing them.  Now  and  then  they  stop,  light  a  cig- 
arette, and  dream — there  is  a  chance  for  a  bit  of 
meditation  and  a  broadening  of  the  vision  of  life. 

Compare  the  feverish  activity  of  our  modern 
industrial  system,  with  its  soul-racking  machines 
and  dehumanizing  servitude  to  work.  While 
visiting  a  chair  factory  in  America,  I  saw  a  man 
tending  a  machine  lathe  with  both  hands,  adjust- 
ing the  new  piece  of  wood  with  one,  and  remov- 
ing the  finished  product  with  the  other.  His 
labor  was  incessant  and  so  quick  and  nervous 
that  it  left  little  room  for  the  soul  in  him  to  peep 

[58] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

forth  during  his  eight  or  nine  hours  at  tHe  ma- 
chine; he  was  working  at  a  tension  which  must 
inevitably  tell  on  his  nervous  system  and  health 
some  day.  "What  is  his  reward  for  this?"  I 
asked  the  owner  of  the  factory.  "Eleven  fifty  a 
week."  On  that  he  could  live  no  more  happily 
than  the  hand  laborer  of  the  Orient,  who  enjoys 
his  work  in  a  leisurely  and  dignified  way. 
"Why  then  is  this  man  working  so  fast,  if  his 
pay  is  so  small?"  "He  has  to,"  the  proprietor 
answered,  "or  I  would  kick  him  out  and  find  an- 
other man."  To  whom  was  this  laborer  a  slave? 
to  his  owner,  or  to  the  system?  At  any  rate,  he 
was  a  slave  to  his  work,  while  our  Oriental 
brother  was  the  master  of  his. 

Poor  East!  Little  does  it  dream,  in  its  silent, 
meditative  happiness,  that  it  will  one  day  have  to 
face  the  industrial  system,  the  age  of  machinery 
and  iron,  which  already  is  creeping  in  upon  it; 
for  factories  are  being  established,  and  labor  is 
being  chained  to  the  loom. 

When  it  comes  to  selling  his  products,  the  Ori- 
ental is  again  the  master  of  his  business — sitting 
cross-legged  in  his  little  shop  waiting  patiently 
for  a  customer.  He  is  never  anxious  to  sell.  If 

[59] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

you  wish  to  exchange  your  money  for  his  goods, 
he  is  ready  to  serve  you.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  to  bargain  with  one  of  these  venerable  old 
Turks  for  a  chain  of  prayer  beads  and  finally 
make  a  purchase  is  like  going  away  with  a  beni- 
son  upon  you.  You  feel  an  affection,  a  love,  for 
the  old  man.  He  is  happy  to  sell  his  beads,  you 
are  happy  to  buy  them — and  the  whole  transac- 
tion has  been  conducted  on  the  highest  level  of 
honor,  courtesy  and  brotherly  feeling. 

The  Turk  has  no  idea  of  enlarging  his  busi- 
ness, of  buying  up  the  shops  around  him  and 
erecting  a  department  store.  The  booth  which 
served  his  father  serves  him;  he  makes  a  living, 
he  is  happy,  he  lives  near  to  Allah — what  more 
could  he  want?  Ah,  the  possibilities  of  automo- 
biles, of  steam  yachts,  and  of  palaces  in  town  and 
mountain  have  not  yet  appeared  to  him.  Will 
you  go  and  awake  him  from  his  lethargy  and 
dream,  American  financier?  Will  you  under- 
take to  show  him  the  possibilities  of  combination, 
of  fierce  competition,  of  ostentatious  wealth? 
Will  you  take  away  his  soul  and  give  him  a  few 
millions  in  return? 

Pray  do  not.     Leave  us  some  corner  of  the 

[60] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

earth  where  we  can  flee  when  the  shadows  of  in- 
dustrialism oppress  us;  when  the  soullessness  of 
human  faces  arouses  our  despair;  when  the 
clutch  of  the  dollar  begins  to  seize  upon  us  and 
to  draw  us  into  the  mad  vortex  of  haste  for  false 
pleasure  and  showy  rivalry.  The  East  is  as  yet 
a  land  free  from  nervous  desire,  a  land  where 
one  can  rest,  can  seek  the  eternal  solitudes  of  the 
spirit — can  find  something  more  valuable  for  hu- 
manity than  materialistic  comforts. 


[61] 


THE  ETERNAL  FEMININE 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  ETERNAL  FEMININE 

The  East  is  in  many  ways  the  antipodes  of 
the  West,  and  especially  in  its  treatment  of 
women.  Here  women  have  every  right — there 
none.  Here  men  make  love  to  their  wives — there 
wives  make  love  to  their  husbands.  Here  men 
wait  upon  the  women — there  women  wait  upon 
the  men.  The  male  in  the  East  is  petted  and 
spoiled  from  birth.  An  Oriental  boy  is  a  little 
autocrat,  learning  from  childhood  to  dominate 
the  women. 

On  a  certain  social  occasion  in  this  country  a 
young  man  of  the  Orient  asked  for  something 
from  an  American  lady  in  such  a  peremptory 
way  as  to  make  the  request  almost  an  order.  No- 
ticing her  surprise  and  indignation,  he  apol- 
ogized, saying,  "Why,  at  home  my  mother  and 
sisters  fly  around  to  do  things  for  me." 

Yet  the  time  seems  to  be  coming  when  "mere 
man,"  even  in  far-away  Turkey,  is  to  fall  from 

[65] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

his  regal  position — the  "New  Woman"  is  in- 
vading the  East! 

In  all  seriousness,  the  position  of  the  Oriental 
woman  up  to  this  time  has  indeed  been  pitiful — 
one  of  isolation,  contempt,  ignorance  and  degra- 
dation. Nor  is  this  attitude  toward  woman  con- 
fined to  Mohammedan  countries:  it  is  the  gen- 
eral attitude  of  the  East,  from  the  Bosphorus  to 
the  Pacific  Ocean.  It  was  inherited  from  classic 
times.  Paul  seems  to  have  been  influenced  in  his 
ideas  concerning  the  fair  sex  by  Greek  philoso- 
phy and  culture;  the  Mohammedans  took  their 
custom  of  secluding  and  veiling  women  from  the 
Greek  civilization  then  prevalent  in  the  East. 

In  India  polygamy  prevails,  with  its  conse- 
quent subjection  of  woman.  In  China  and 
Japan  the  contempt  for  the  female  child  is  great. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Mohammedan- 
ism lowered  the  position  of  the  Arab  woman. 
Before  this  religion  prevailed,  it  had  been  a 
common  custom  among  the  Arabs  to  bury  su- 
perfluous female  children  alive  in  the  sand.  Mo- 
hammed restricted  his  followers  to  four  wives, 
a  great  advance  over  the  promiscuous  intercourse 
which  had  preceded;  and  other  worse  things,  un- 

[66] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

namable  here,  were  done  away  by  the  Prophet. 
Degradation  of  women  was  inherited  from  the 
environment,  since  it  has  been  a  racial  charac- 
teristic of  the  East.  With  just  as  little  reason 
might  the  freedom  of  the  Occidental  woman  be 
ascribed  wholly  to  Christianity. 

The  average  Mohammedan  female  does  in- 
deed hold  an  unenviable  position.  She  cannot 
feel  herself  essential  to  her  husband,  save  in  the 
satisfaction  of  his  sex  needs;  she  cannot  in  any 
way  be  said  to  share  his  life;  she  lives  in  a  little 
world  of  her  own,  a  feminine  world,  into  which 
her  husband  may  enter  as  he  will,  but  no  other 
man,  save  her  nearest  male  relations.  Her  quar- 
ters, called  the  harem,  are  entirely  separated 
from  the  men's  quarters.  She  does  not  see  her 
husband's  guests.  The  whole  world  might  come 
and  go,  and  she  be  never  the  wiser.  A  licen- 
tious husband,  if  he  be  so  inclined,  may  entertain 
courtesans  within  his  own  rooms  and  his  wife 
never  know  it,  save  through  tale-bearing  serv- 
ants— and  she  would  be  unable  to  prevent  it, 
even  if  she  did  know  it. 

What  can  the  wife  do,  then,  to  amuse  herself? 
Her  greatest  source  of  enjoyment  is  in  visiting 

[67] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

or  receiving  visits  from  other  Mohammedan 
women.  During  these  visits,  tongues  rattle  and 
local  gossip  is  exchanged.  At  other  times,  the 
Turkish  woman  amuses  herself  by  smoking, 
dreaming,  playing  backgammon,  or  sleeping. 
Life  in  the  harem  is  very  boresome.  Ennui  is 
the  fatal  disease  of  the  Oriental  woman.  She 
does  not,  as  a  rule,  know  how  to  read;  her  head 
is  empty  of  ideas,  and  her  language  is  vile.  The 
talk  of  the  harem,  in  which  wives,  servants  and 
little  children  join,  is  pornographic  to  a  degree. 

The  Constantinople  women  seek  amusement 
in  shopping,  which  furnishes  an  opportunity  for 
delightful  flirtations;  in  driving  through  pleas- 
ure resorts,  where  they  raise  their  veils  on  oc- 
casions; or  in  boating  on  the  Sweet  Waters, 
where  they  display  their  charms  more  freely 
than  elsewhere.  But  the  Mohammedan  women  of 
the  interior  of  Turkey,  of  Persia,  and  of  India, 
have  none  of  these  liberties.  They  never  dare 
to  unveil  in  public,  and  they  must  drive  in  closed 
carriages.  In  travelling  by  boat  or  train  they 
have  special  quarters  reserved  for  them,  and  do 
not  appear  where  the  men  are. 

These  are  not  the  worst  things  Mohammedan 

[68] 


A 


TYPICAL     Turkish    house,     Turkish 
•women  boating  on  the  Bosphorus. 


G 


YPSY  women  at  the  Sweet  Waters. 


THE    REAL    TURK 

wives  have  to  put  up  with.  Perhaps  the  greatest 
evil  of  polygamy  is  its  destruction  of  the  home. 
What  ambition  would  a  woman  have  to  save  and 
scrimp  and  make  a  home  for  her  husband,  and 
then,  as  she  grows  old  and  ugly,  see  him  take  a 
second  wife,  young  and  beautiful?  As  a  result 
of  this  danger,  they  take  little  thought  of  the 
home.  Their  one  aim  is  to  have  a  good  time,  and 
to  get  their  husbands  to  spend  as  much  money  as 
possible  upon  them.  In  Persia,  the  word  for 
"woman"  is  used  to  describe  any  evil  thing. 

Not  only  does  the  Oriental  wife  run  the  dan- 
ger of  competition  from  a  second  wife,  but  she 
is  liable  at  any  time  to  be  divorced.  The  slight- 
est quarrel,  or  even  dissatisfaction,  on  the  part 
of  the  husband  may  result  in  a  divorce  and  no 
legal  proceedings  are  necessary:  all  the  husband 
has  to  do  is  to  say  before  a  witness,  "I  divorce 
you,"  and  the  deed  is  done.  If  he  says  it  only 
once  he  can  take  her  back  when  his  anger  cools; 
if  he  says  it  three  times,  it  is  irrevocable,  and  he 
cannot  take  her  back  again  till  she  has  been  mar- 
ried to  another  man  and  divorced.  For  this  pur- 
pose, therefore,  there  exists  a  special  profession 
in  the  Orient:  men  make  a  business  of  marrying 

[69] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

divorced  women  for  one  night,  in  order  that 
their  fond  and  forgiving  husbands  of  yore  may 
take  them  back  again. 

Ambiguous  and  flowery  language  is  often 
used  in  the  East  to  soften  hard  facts.  The  hus- 
band may  say,  "I  think  you  had  better  visit  your 
mother,  my  dear,"  and  he  is  perfectly  understood 
by  his  discerning  wife — it  is  not  necessary  for 
him  to  add,  "Do  not  come  back  again!" 

The  frequency  of  divorce  varies  in  different 
countries  and  localities,  and  according  to  the 
wealth  and  position  of  the  men.  It  is  very  com- 
mon among  the  Egyptians,  where  some  women 
at  twenty  have  been  divorced  ten  or  twelve 
times.  In  fact,  divorce  in  Mohammedan  coun- 
tries is  a  great  evil,  because  through  its  facility  a 
woman  is  practically  at  the  mercy  of  her  hus- 
band. She  must  manoeuvre  day  and  night  to 
keep  in  his  good  pleasure.  She  lives  always  in 
anxiety.  Should  she,  however,  desire  to  divorce 
her  husband,  she  would  have  to  go  through  a 
complicated  legal  procedure,  which  makes  it  dif- 
ficult for  her  to  get  free — the  freedom  is  all  on 
the  other  side. 

Another  degrading  effect  of  polygamy  and 

[70] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

harem  life  on  the  Oriental  woman  is  the  necessity 
she  is  under  of  suing  for  her  husband's  favor  in 
competition  with  his  other  wives.  She  must  al- 
ways be  making  love  to  him,  and  counts  herself 
lucky  if  he  deigns  to  notice  her.  The  terrible 
jealousies  and  intrigues  of  the  harem  make  life 
a  hell  in  many  cases. 

The  wife  who  first  bears  her  lord  a  male  child 
is  in  great  favor,  and  she  holds  a  position  su- 
perior to  the  other  wives:  as  mother  of  a  man 
child  she  reaches  the  highest  state  woman  can  at- 
tain in  the  Orient.  As  a  girl  she  is  neglected,  as 
a  wife  degraded,  but  as  a  mother  she  is  respected 
and  cared  for.  Through  her  influence  upon  her 
son  she  may  exert  a  good  deal  of  power.  When 
he  marries  she  becomes  the  ruler  of  his  house- 
hold— and  a  tyrant  she  often  is,  too.  For  this 
reason  it  is  the  one  desire  of  the  Oriental  woman 
to  have  a  son.  This  is  her  dream — and  this  is 
what  her  rivals  most  fear.  Therefore  they  some- 
times attempt,  through  bribing  the  midwife,  to 
maim  her  so  she  can  never  bear  children  again. 
To  what  depths  .will  jealousy  not  go!  In  Persia, 
besides  plurality  of  wives,  and  possibility  of  di- 
vorce, the  Mohammedan  man  can  also  have  con- 

[71] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

cubines  or  keep  women  for  stated  periods.  The 
position  of  these  women  is  legalized  by  religious 
law,  so  that  they  are  not  held  in  dishonor.  They 
may  fill  such  a  capacity  while  young  and  later 
marry  respectably. 

The  poor  generally  have  but  one  wife — and 
they  live  as  happily  together  as  any  other  peas- 
ant peoples.  The  lower-class  women  are  not 
bound  up  in  the  fol-de-rol  of  veil  and  secluded 
quarters.  Their  life  is  so  much  in  the  open  that 
the  veil  would  be  often  in  the  way.  They  wear  it, 
but  when  they  work  in  the  fields  they  put  it  up 
over  their  head.  So  they  are  much  freer  than 
their  wealthy  sisters.  For  the  harem  is  dis- 
tinctly an  adjunct  of  the  plutocrats.  And  it  is 
a  question  whether  a  legal  provision  for  such 
men's  appetites  is  any  worse  morally  than  the 
covert  licentiousness  of  Western  peoples.  Let 
that  country  which  is  without  evil  be  the  first  to 
throw  stones.  Some  of  our  rich  men  are  also  po- 
lygamists,  and  in  the  practice  of  their  pleasures 
they  often  ruin  young  girls,  whose  course  may 
then  continue  downward  until  it  ends  in  the 
gutter.  The  Oriental  women  are  at  least  assured 
of  a  home,  a  position  in  society,  and  a  certain 

[72] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

amount  of  happiness.  Let  us  not  think  that 
monogamy  has  stamped  out  the  desires  of  men, 
nor  that  American  gentlemen  of  wealth  are  al- 
ways more  virtuous  than  their  wealthy  Moham- 
medan brothers  in  this  respect. 

Mohammedans  seek  to  defend  polygamy  by 
arguing  that  it  avoids  prostitution;  and  another 
defence  is  that  it  is  necessary  in  a  country  where 
women  have  no  independent  means  of  support 
(there  are  few  old  maids  in  Turkey — marriage 
means  assurance  of  support  and  protection). 

Polygamy  may  be  a  social  evil,  but  whether  or 
not  it  is  a  moral  evil  (in  some  stages  of  civiliza- 
tion) is  open  to  question.  It  is  rather  inconsis- 
tent of  Christians  to  hold  up  their  hands  in 
horror  at  the  polygamy  of  Islamic  countries 
now,  while  they  read  with  perfect  equanimity 
the  lives  of  Abraham,  Jacob,  and  the  other  pa- 
triarchs of  the  Bible,  who  were  also  polygamists. 

The  Turks  treat  their  wives  more  liberally 
than  many  other  Mohammedans,  and  there  is 
more  real  love  and  domestic  happiness  among 
them  than  in  Persia  or  India.  Along  the  shores 
of  the  Bosphorus,  on  pleasant  summer  days,  can 
be  seen  many  a  Turkish  family — father,  mother 

[78] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

and  children — strolling  along  together  enjoying 
the  fresh  air  in  company — a  thing  unheard  of  in 
stricter  Mohammedan  countries. 

However,  polygamy  is  now  a  waning  custom 
in  Islam.  The  influence  of  European  culture 
has  been  steadily  creating  a  sentiment  against 
it  among  progressives,  and  the  Young  Turk  al- 
most universally  restricts  himself  to  one  wife. 
It  is  only  in  the  passing  generation  that  the 
harem  exists.  The  Young  Turk  aspires  to  the 
happiness  of  a  real  union — a  home  built  up  by 
the  love  and  devotion  of  two  people,  one  for  the 
other — a  partnership  between  man  and  wife. 
And  he  knows  this  is  impossible  if  he  has  more 
than  one  wife.  He  also  desires  his  wife  to  be 
educated,  so  that  she  can  be  his  intellectual  and 
spiritual  companion.  The  young  Turkish 
woman  of  the  present  day  has  often  a  culture 
that  would  eclipse  that  of  many  an  educated 
American  woman.  She  reads  French  fluently, 
and  usually  English,  also.  She  devours  French 
novels,  and  even  reads  works  of  philosophy.  She 
is  a  woman  of  force  and  of  character — no  longer 
the  doll-like  creature  of  the  harem. 

Turkish  women,  like  Turkish  men,  are  admir- 

[74] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

able  in  character  and  personality.  They  have  a 
charm  which  attracts.  In  personal  appearance 
they  are  often  very  beautiful,  with  clear  delicate 
complexion,  wonderful  eyes,  and  a  grace  which 
is  the  heritage  of  the  Orient.  Their  voices  are 
melodious,  and  their  manners  kindly  yet  digni- 
fied. The  veil,  half  revealing,  half  concealing 
their  charms,  renders  them  still  more  attractive; 
and  when  pushed  wholly  up  on  the  head,  fur- 
nishes a  head-dress  which  is  always  becoming, 
framing  the  rich  oval  face  and  bringing  out  its 
delicate  contour. 

A  wonderful  change  has  come  over  the  women 
of  Turkey  since  the  Revolution.  Rebellion 
against  their  oppressed  position,  long  smoulder- 
ing, broke  out  in  demands  for  more  liberty  at  a 
time  when  liberty  was  in  the  air.  The  women 
began  to  appear  in  the  streets  and  in  public 
places  unveiled.  Groups  of  them  would  meet 
you  bare-faced,  with  brazen  effrontery. 

A  significant  sight  was  that  witnessed  by  the 
writer  just  after  the  Revolution,  when  at  a  fete 
on  the  shore  of  the  Bosphorus,  given  to  raise 
money  for  the  exiled  Turkish  pariots,  some  two 
hundred  Turkish  women  sat  in  the  audience,  un- 

[75] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

veiled.  This  was  a  miracle  indeed  for  Islam — 
a  breaking  away  from  old  ties — a  sign  of  new 
conditions  and  a  new  world-culture.  Prominent 
Young  Turks  made  speeches  one  word  of  which 
would  have  caused  their  death  before  the  consti- 
tution was  declared ;  and  one  speaker  turned  and 
addressed  the  women,  assuring  them  that  they 
would  share,  too,  in  this  glorious  liberty,  and  that 
they  must  prepare  themselves  to  be  mothers  of  a 
worthy  race. 

We  were  even  waited  on  by  beautiful  Turkish 
maidens,  unveiled,  who  served  us  ice  cream  and 
handed  us  change.  One  must  have  lived  in  the 
Old  Turkey  properly  to  appreciate  this. 

One  of  the  boldest  and  most  talented  among 
the  Young  Turkish  women  is  Halliday  Hanum, 
the  daughter  of  a  government  official  of  high 
rank  under  Abdul  Hamid.  This  officer  sacri- 
ficed promotion  and  advancement  and  even  en- 
dangered his  life  by  refusing  to  take  her  out  of 
the  American  College  for  Girls  at  Constantino- 
ple before  her  graduation.  Abdul  Hamid  would 
never  permit  any  Turkish  man  or  woman  to 
graduate  from  the  American  schools  if  he  could 
prevent  it  by  threats  and  pressure. 

[76] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Halliday  Hanum,  up  to  the  time  of  the  Revo- 
lution, was  the  first  and  only  Turkish  graduate 
of  the  American  Cqllege  for  Women.  She  had 
married  a  cultured  Young  Turk,  later  made  a 
member  of  the  Board  of  Education,  with  whom 
she  continued  the  training  of  her  mind,  reading 
and  discussing  French  novels,  philosophy  and 
history.  When  the  Revolution  broke  out  and 
freedom  was  declared,  she  was  one  of  the  best 
fitted  of  all  Turkish  women  to  represent  her  sex 
and  her  country.  She  developed  into  a  brilliant 
writer,  and  the  leading  Turkish  journals  were 
eager  for  her  work.  She  was  made  a  member  of 
the  Constantinople  press  club — the  only  female 
member — and  she  mingled  freely  with  men  of  all 
nationalities  except  her  own. 

Another  historic  precedent  was  established 
when  she  gave  a  lecture  at  her  Alma  Mater,  be- 
fore an  audience  of  men  and  women,  unveiled. 
Such  boldness  had  not  been  known  since  the  days 
when  Kurat-el-Eyn,  the  Babist,  of  Persia,  ap- 
peared before  her  fellow  disciples  unveiled; 
which  shocked  them  so  that  one  went  and  com- 
mitted suicide,  no  longer  caring  to  see  the  light 
of  day  after  witnessing  such  shameless  effront- 

[77] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

ery.  It  was  as  great  a  sacrilege  against  propri- 
ety as  for  a  woman  here  to  appear  nude  in  public. 
Such  is  the  force  of  custom. 

For  her  boldness  in  violating  the  sacred  cus- 
toms of  Islam,  Halliday  Hanum  came  near  be- 
ing torn  to  pieces  during  the  fanatical  uprising 
of  April,  1909.  Once  more  the  Old  Turks  were 
in  power,  and  they  sought  eagerly  for  all  who 
had  offended  them.  Halliday  was  safely  hidden, 
but  if  she  had  been  found  she  would  have  been 
torn  limb  from  limb. 

Aggressive  suffragism  has  set  an  example 
which  the  Turkish  women  were  not  slow  in  fol- 
lowing. They  demanded  with  such  persistence 
the  right  to  attend  the  sessions  of  Parliament 
that  it  was  finally  accorded  them. 

The  boldness  of  the  women  in  throwing  off  the 
old  restraints  was  modified  somewhat  after  the 
first  flush  of  liberty  had  died  down.  The  pres- 
sure of  public  opinion  on  the  part  of  the  fanatical 
Old  Turks,  who  still  numbered  nine-tenths  of 
the  Turkish  population,  was  too  great.  Women 
were  mobbed  in  the  streets  for  appearing  un- 
veiled. Finally  the  Young  Turk  Committee 
issued  an  appeal  to  the  Turkish  women  to  be 

[78] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

more  moderate  in  their  emancipation  and  to  wait 
patiently  for  the  day  when  public  opinion  would 
be  with  them.  As  this  advice  was  for  their  own 
good  and  the  good  of  the  cause,  it  was  followed, 
and  the  women  were  more  careful  about  throw- 
ing up  their  veils  when  among  fanatics. 

Yet  the  movement  of  emancipation,  of  uplift, 
and  of  education,  is  going  rapidly  on.  The 
American  College  for  Girls  has  been  besieged 
by  Turkish  applicants,  and  it  is  devoting  all  its 
energy  to  preparing  the  young  Turkish  woman 
for  her  place  in  the  new  Empire  by  the  side  of 
the  young  Turkish  man.  Other  foreign  schools 
are  now  educating  Turkish  women,  and  the 
government  has  established  schools  of  its  own, 
so  that  at  last  the  doors  of  opportunity  are 
opened — and  the  new  woman,  enlightened,  able, 
and  patriotic,  will  arise  in  the  East. 

It  is  very  interesting  to  meet  and  converse 
with  these  young  women,  not  only  Turkish,  but 
Greek,  Bulgarian  and  Armenian,  who  are  being 
educated  up  to  the  standards  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion. They  are  like  undiscovered  lands.  If  it  is 
fascinating  for  man  to  study  the  psychology  of 
the  opposite  sex  in  his  own  country,  how  much 

[79] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

more  so  to  study  the  women  of  other  races,  just 
blossoming  out  into  the  fullness  of  their  intellec- 
tual powers.  For  centuries  they  have  been  mere 
dolls.  Men  asked  from  them  nothing  but  beauty. 
Now  their  minds  are  developing,  and  they  show 
great  abilities.  Imagine  a  blushing  Turkish 
beauty  discussing  the  political  problems  of  the 
day — or  a  Bulgarian  girl  reviewing  her  sociology 
for  your  benefit.  They  are  still  rather  shy  in 
the  presence  of  men. 

An  account  of  the  women  of  the  Orient  would 
not  be  complete  without  a  description  of  the 
ways  of  love  and  courtship  there.  Love  is  in- 
evitable. It  has  inspired  great  poems,  one  of 
which,  "Leila  and  Majnoon"  by  Nazami,  is  the 
classic  of  Persian  literature,  and  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  love  poems  in  the  world.  Majnoon  is 
so  intoxicated  with  his  love  that  he  becomes 
crazed  by  it.  That  is  the  way  love  strikes  one  in 
the  Orient — that  land  of  nightingales  and  roses. 
Love  in  the  cold  north  is  pale  compared  to  love 
where  spicy  breezes  blow.  And  it  is  always  love 
at  first  sight,  since  there  are  no  opportunities  for 
courting.  One  sees  a  beautiful  face,  becomes  in- 
toxicated by  it,  dreams  over  it,  feels  that  life 

[80] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

holds  no  interest  for  him  unless  he  can  possess  it ; 
he  speaks  to  the  parents,  financial  matters  are  ar- 
ranged— and  she  is  his!  It  is  for  her  to  fall  in 
love  with  him  at  her  leisure;  but  since  she  never 
has  a  chance  to  become  familiar  with  anyone  else 
and  has  no  basis  upon  which  to  make  compari- 
sons, she  is  usually  satisfied. 

It  is  contrary  to  strict  Mohammedan  custom 
for  the  man  to  see  his  bride  except  by  accident 
before  the  day  of  the  marriage.  After  the  cere- 
mony has  been  performed — the  men  being  en- 
tertained in  their  own  quarters,  and  the  women 
separately  in  the  harem — the  bridegroom  is  led 
into  his  bride's  chamber  and  left  there  with  her. 
He  goes  up  to  her,  raises  her  veil,  and  for  the 
first  times  sees  her  face.  If  he  does  not  like  it, 
he  can  get  a  divorce  the  next  day.  Nowadays, 
however,  a  chance  is  given  the  prospective  pair 
to  see  each  other,  and  some  liberty  of  choice  is 
left  with  them.  A  kind  father  would  not  force 
a  girl  to  marry  a  man  to  whom  she  felt  an  aver- 
sion. 

The  two  sexes  are  isolated  so  much  from  each 
other  that  love,  when  it  does  break  out,  is  very 
powerful,  for  this  is  the  land  of  romance !  In  the 

[81] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

spring,  with  the  scent  of  blossoms  in  the  air,  the 
moonlight  lying  upon  the  Bosphorus,  and  the 
nightingale  breathing  its  passion  forth  in  liquid 
notes,  every  woman  is  a  Houri,  invested  with 
celestial  charms.  It  is  the  place  for  dreams,  for 
ecstacies,  for  joys  untold — a  land  where  love 
holds  sway  as  the  most  potent  force  in  the  lives 
of  its  subjects. 

In  the  words  of  Hafiz : 

When  thus  I  sit  with  roses  on  my  breast, 
Wine  in  my  hand,  and  the  Beloved  kind; 

I  ask  no  more — the  world  can  take  the  rest. 
Even  the  Sultan's  self  is  to  my  mind, 

On  such  a  planetary  night  as  this, 
Compared  with  me  a  veritable  slave. 


[82] 


AT  HOME 


CHAPTER  VI 
AT  HOME 

If  Charles  Wagner  had  lived  and  died  in  the 
Orient  he  would  never  have  written  his  "Simple 
Life/'  because  there  it  is  lived  so  habitually  that 
it  is  taken  as  a  matter  of  course.  In  the  Occident 
there  are  movements  of  different  kinds  on  foot 
for  the  encouragement  of  this  "simple  life,"  but 
in  the  East  it  needs  no  encouragement. 

To  an  American  trained  in  the  etiquette  of  the 
West  life  in  Turkey  seems  like  camping  out ;  and 
one  falls  into  their  way  of  living  with  as  much  de- 
light as  here  one  leaves  the  stiff  and  formal  ways 
of  the  city  for  a  week  or  a  month  of  tent  life  by 
mountain  or  seashore.  All  the  unnecessary 
things  are  stripped  away,  and  only  those  things 
which  make  for  comfort  and  real  ease  of  living 
are  to  be  found.  The  Turk  has  been  a  nomad 
for  so  long  that  he  still  carries  the  traces  of  the 
wanderer  about  him  and  his  home  is  more  or  less 
an  enlarged  and  glorified  tent. 

What  would  you  think  of  a  home  in  which 

[85] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

there  were  no  chairs  and  no  beds,  no  bathroom, 
no  pictures  upon  the  walls?  Yet  such  a  home 
may  be  comfortable  and  artistic.  Beautiful  rugs 
upon  the  walls  take  the  place  of  pictures ;  and  in- 
stead of  chairs,  the  Orientals  have  long  divans 
running  all  around  the  room,  which  are  wider 
than  our  couches,  serving  both  as  chairs  and  as 
beds.  The  Turks  sit  upon  them  cross-legged,  in 
the  attitude  so  well  known  through  pictures,  and 
read  or  write  in  that  position.  They  never  write 
at  a  desk  or  table,  but  use  the  left  hand  to  sup- 
port the  paper,  and  with  the  little  inkwell  upon 
the  divan  or  on  the  ground  in  front  of  them  will 
write  all  day. 

In  the  University  of  Cairo,  one  of  the  largest 
in  the  world,  I  saw  neither  desks  nor  black- 
boards. In  the  various  open-air  courts  the  stu- 
dents were  seated  cross-legged  on  the  ground 
around  their  hodja,  or  teacher,  listening  to  a  lec- 
ture or  taking  notes  on  small  pieces  of  paper 
which  they  held  in  their  hands. 

But  to  return  to  the  divans.  When  you  come 
to  an  Oriental  house  in  which  you  are  to  stop, 
you  are  shown  into  a  room  such  as  has  been  de- 
scribed and  take  up  your  abode  upon  a  section 

[86] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

of  the  divan.  Anywhere  from  one  to  ten  per- 
sons can  be  accommodated  in  one  room.  By 
day  you  recline  there  and  chat — a  favorite  Ori- 
ental occupation — or  read;  and  when  night 
comes  blankets  are  brought  and  the  same  divans 
serve  as  beds.  The  people  roll  themselves  up, 
head  to  head  and  foot  to  foot,  candles  are  extin- 
guished, and  soon  all  are  asleep. 

When  the  Oriental  is  in  his  own  home  he  wears 
only  his  underclothes  to  bed.  Upon  getting  up 
in  the  morning  he  puts  on  a  long  dressing-gown 
and  cases  his  bare  feet  in  slippers — a  costume 
more  comfortable  than  any  other  on  earth.  Why 
shouldn't  men  enjoy  the  luxury  of  such  gowns 
as  well  as  women?  Collars  are  unknown.  If 
they  wear  shirts  made  to  hold  collars  they  leave 
off  the  collars. 

When  dressing  for  the  street  they  slip  on  a 
pair  of  light,  loose  trousers,  possibly  a  jacket  if 
the  weather  is  cool,  and  over  all  the  long  silk 
gown  which  comes  up  to  the  chin  when  buttoned 
and  conceals  a  multitude  of  sins — if  sin  it  be  to 
have  dirty  linen. 

With  his  large,  easy  shoes,  his  light,  flowing 
robe,  and  a  sunshade  over  his  head,  an  Oriental 

[87] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

is  as  comfortable  in  warm  weather  as  costume 
will  permit.  Notice  this — their  costume  is  built 
for  comfort.  Those  of  us  who  know  what  it  is 
to  hit  camp  in  the  Maine  woods  after  a  long,  hot 
journey  from  the  city  and  strip  off  all  the  bar- 
baric trappings  of  civilization,  and  then  loaf 
around  in  the  luxury  of  camp  clothes,  can  realize 
how  comfortable  life  is  in  the  Orient — as  regards 
clothes,  at  least. 

On  account  of  the  seclusion  of  women  and 
their  absence  from  social  and  business  life,  the 
men  of  the  Orient  become  rather  lax  about  their 
personal  appearance.  They  seldom  shave  more 
than  once  a  week,  or  twice  a  week  at  most.  If 
you  meet  a  government  official,  an  editor,  a  pro- 
fessor, a  statesman — the  highest  people  of  the 
Empire — you  may  find  them  with  a  hirsute 
growth  upon  their  faces  which  the  social  life  of 
the  Occident  taboos.  Where  the  Turk  comes 
into  frequent  contact  with  Europeans,  this  is 
changed,  however,  and  he  adopts  their  standards. 

It  was  laughable  yet  pathetic  to  see  one  little 
change  made  by  the  Revolution  in  the  matter  of 
street  dress.  Many  of  the  old-style  Turks  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  appearing  on  the  street  in 

[88] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

their  comfortable,  kimona-like  home  costume. 
Under  the  new  regime  this  was  considered  a  little 
behind  the  times,  especially  as  the  European  la- 
dies protested  to  the  government  against  this  un- 
tidiness; a  law  was  passed  by  Parliament 
prohibiting  these  poor  old  men  from  appearing 
upon  the  street  in  decollete,  and  they  had  to 
dress  up  thereafter. 

I  do  not  wish  to  be  understood,  however,  as 
branding  the  Turk  with  slovenliness.  He  is  by 
far  the  neatest  and  cleanest  of  all  the  Orientals. 
His  person  he  keeps  scrupulously  clean,  washing 
his  face,  neck,  hands  and  feet  with  religious  reg- 
ularity (ablutions  are  one  of  the  requirements  of 
his  religion) .  If  he  fails  to  wash  the  rest  of  his 
body  it  is  because  total  immersion  is  not  one  of 
the  ideals  of  the  East.  An  Oriental  can  live  for 
a  long  time  without  a  complete  bath,  and  be  as 
happy  as  an  Englishman  would  be  miserable 
under  the  same  circumstances.  His  clothes  he 
invariably  keeps  clean,  and  even  the  laborers  al- 
ways look  neat.  A  costume  which  contains  so 
many  patches  that  the  original  cloth  is  hard  to 
discover  will  yet  be  clean  and  well-kept. 

They  are  neat,  too,  in  their  habits.    A  Turkish 

[89] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

food  shop  is  much  neater  than  a  Greek  or  Ar- 
menian one.  I  have  travelled  several  thousand 
miles  on  ship  with  the  peasants  of  all  races  in 
the  Orient,  and  have  discovered  that,  of  all  of 
these,  the  Turks  are  the  neatest. 

When  they  come  in  contact  with  European 
civilization  and  adopt  its  costume  and  habits  they 
are  great  dandies,  exquisite  in  their  dress  and  ap- 
pearance. The  Turk  is  one  of  the  handsomest, 
most  graceful,  and  most  charming  of  men,  and 
no  one  could  fail  to  be  attracted  by  a  gentleman 
of  this  race  who  puts  himself  out  to  please. 

In  one  respect  the  East  stands  at  a  point  to 
which  we  may  hope  to  progress  after  a  few  cen- 
turies of  effort  and  struggle  for  common  sense  in 
clothes :  it  has  no  change  of  styles —  that  tyranny 
of  the  tailors  which  devours  so  large  a  portion  of 
our  attention,  time,  patience  and  money.  The 
Oriental  buys  a  silk  robe  and  it  is  good  for  life. 
It  may  even  pass  down  to  the  next  generation 
and  still  be  in  style.  He  has  no  collars,  neckties, 
silk  hosiery,  to  change  from  season  to  season,  no 
spring  styles  and  winter  styles,  no  change  in  the 
form  of  his  shoes — and  his  red  fez  is  good  all  the 
year  round,  and  every  year. 

[90] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

The  fez  is  as  democratic  a  hat  as  the  derby. 
It  lasts  for  years,  and  costs  at  the  most  only  a 
medjedie,  or  eighty  cents.  Rich  and  poor,  high 
and  low,  wear  the  fez.  It  is  the  national  head- 
dress of  the  Ottoman  Empire,  and  to  wear  any- 
thing else  would  be  unpatriotic.  If  a  Turk  in  the 
interior,  where  Mohammedan  customs  are  still 
rigidly  observed,  should  appear  in  a  felt  hat  or  a 
straw  hat  he  would  undoubtedly  be  mobbed — 
just  as  much  as  if  he  insulted  his  country's  flag. 
After  the  Revolution  the  New  Turks  tried  to 
discard  the  fez  by  gradually  modifying  its  shape 
and  appearance,  but  the  opposition  was  too  great 
and  the  matter  was  dropped  for  the  time.  One 
of  my  Turkish  friends,  when  he  went  on  any  ex- 
cursion with  me,  would  take  a  cap  in  his  pocket 
and  upon  leaving  the  outskirts  of  the  town  sub- 
stitute it  for  his  fez,  which  is  not  an  ideal  head- 
dress for  a  hot  sunny  day.  I  wonder  that  the 
Turks  have  so  long  let  this  religious  custom  of 
the  fez  stand  against  their  comfort.  In  winter 
it  is  all  right,  but  in  the  bright  sun  of  summer  it 
heats  the  head  and  affords  no  protection  for  the 
eyes  and  neck.  Usually  the  peasants  attach  a 
handkerchief  to  the  back  of  the  fez  and  drape  it 

[91] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

over  the  neck  to  prevent  sunstroke.  At  every 
street  corner  in  the  city  are  little  shops  for  cleans- 
ing and  reshaping  the  fez — usually  run  by  Jews 
or  Armenians.  This  work  is  done  for  one  cent, 
and  makes  your  fez  as  good  as  new. 

The  Turk  reverses  our  customs  in  this :  in  en- 
tering a  house  he  keeps  his  hat  on;  and  he  bows 
gallantly  to  ladies,  but  never  lifts  his  hat.  The 
Turkish  custom  of  taking  the  shoes  off  upon  en- 
tering a  house  is  one  which,  far  from  being  ridic- 
ulous, as  many  Americans  think,  is  both  comfort- 
able and  hygienic.  None  of  the  dirt  of  the  street 
is  tracked  into  the  houses — and  in  the  East  the 
streets  are  pretty  dirty.  Our  housekeepers  here 
who  lose  so  much  good-temper  over  the  careless 
way  the  men  folk  have  of  tracking  mud  and  dirt 
across  a  newly-cleaned  floor  can  realize  the  ad- 
vantage of  taking  off  one's  shoes  at  the  door. 
The  old-time  Turk  wears  thick  socks  and  low 
shoes  without  any  leather  at  the  back,  walking 
with  a  peculiar  motion  which  is  necessary  to  keep 
such  shoes  on  and  developing  tremendous  ankles. 
Upon  reaching  home  he  slips  out  of  his  shoes 
without  needing  to  use  his  hands  in  the  process, 
and  walks  across  the  threshold  in  his  stocking- 

[92] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

feet.  Then  he  curls  up  on  a  divan,  as  comfort- 
able as  a  dog  by  the  fire.  The  washing  of  the 
feet  is  a  religious  duty  and  since  it  is  performed 
from  one  to  five  times  a  day  there  is  no  offensive 
odor. 

The  New  Turk,  however,  who  has  become 
affected  with  European  footwear,  puts  on  over 
his  shoes  a  kind  of  leather  overshoe  something 
like  a  low  rubber,  and  takes  this  off  upon  enter- 
ing a  house,  keeping  his  shoes  on. 

You  Americans  who  are  suffering  from  afflic- 
tions which  require  the  services  of  a  chiropodist 
— what  would  you  not  give  if  you  could  shuffle 
off  your  tight  shoes  whenever  you  entered  a 
house  and  sit  as  the  Turk  does,  in  your  stocking- 
feet?  What  a  comfort!  And  yet  I  will  guaran- 
tee that  you  have  considered  the  Turk  a  most 
eccentric  and  unnatural  man  because  his  custom 
as  regards  the  covering  of  head  and  foot  are 
diametrically  opposite  to  yours. 

Such  little  things  as  this,  even,  may  teach  us 
tolerance  for  other  races,  whose  customs  seem  so 
different  from  ours.  Let  us  remember  that  there 
is  a  reason  for  every  such  custom — and  that 
often  this  custom  may  be  intrinsically  better  than 

[93] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

our  own.  I  think  a  great  opportunity  is  lost  in 
our  schools  by  not  presenting  the  customs  of 
foreign  peoples  in  such  a  way  as  to  develop  tol- 
erance and  breadth  in  the  pupils.  Our  geogra- 
phies have  aimed  too  much  at  arousing  interest 
by  sBowing  the  peculiarities  of  foreign  races. 
Just  as  sure  as  a  child  comes  to  think  any  race 
peculiar,  he  will  despise  it.  He  should  be  shown 
the  deep  underlying  sameness  of  human  na- 
ture, which  expresses  itself  in  different  cus- 
toms under  different  environments  and  needs. 
On  the  surface  men  seem  different;  at 
the  bottom  they  are  one — seeking  the  same 
things  in  life,  moved  by  the  same  needs  and 
passions.  • 

To  a  stranger,  a  Turk  in  his  red  fez,  peculiar 
garb,  and  swarthy  complexion,  is  something  to 
wonder  at  and  even  ridicule,  as  the  old  joke  in 
"Punch"  illustrates:  "  'Arry,  'ere  comes  a 
stranger — 'Eave  'alf  a  brick  at  'im."  We  most 
of  us  have  bricks  up  our  sleeves  for  the  stranger ; 
and  what  the  world  needs  is  to  realize  that  no 
men  are  strangers.  When  you  have  associated 
with  the  Turk  for  a  while  he  will  become  as  a 
brother  to  you,  and  the  differences  will  seem 

[94] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

to  drop  away.  It  is  no  honor  to  be  provincial  in 
one's  attitude  toward  others. 

In  matters  of  diet  the  Turk  again  displays  his 
simplicity  and  common  sense.  One  of  our  most 
noted  dietitians,  whom  I  met  in  Constantinople, 
declares  that  the  Turks  have  the  finest  physique 
of  any  race  in  the  world,  and  lays  this  fact  to 
their  simple  diet  and  abstinence  from  liquor. 

Although  a  man  of  wealth  or  a  gentleman  in 
official  life  may  surround  himself  with  a  luxury 
of  diet  befitting  his  rank,  it  is  the  exception ;  those 
in  ordinary  walks  of  life  eat  very  simply.  For 
Breakfast  they  take  only  the  small  cup  of  Turk- 
ish coffee,  and  possibly  a  roll.  At  noon  they  eat 
a  very  simple  lunch — perhaps  only  a  bowl  of 
sour  milk  (yaourt)  and  bread.  At  night  comes 
the  main  meal  of  the  day,  but  this  is  not  elab- 
orate. It  consists  of  meat  and  rice  (pilaff),  sev- 
eral dishes  of  vegetables,  salad,  and  pastry, 
ending  with  the  delicious  coffee.  In  the  summer 
the  Turks  are  almost  vegetarians,  consuming 
very  little  meat,  but  eating  fresh  salads,  good 
vegetables  and  fruit. 

The  diet  of  the  workman  or  the  peasant  is 
simpler  still.  He  lunches  on  a  piece  of  bread 

[95] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

and  an  onion — or  any  fruit  in  its  season.  A 
quarter  of  a  loaf  of  bread  costs  him  one  cent,  a 
melon,  a  bunch  of  grapes,  or  a  piece  of  cheese 
costs  another  cent,  and  for  two  cents  his  lunch 
is  complete.  At  night  he  has  a  stew  with  cheap 
vegetables  and  a  bit  of  meat  in  it — the  whole 
thing  costing  four  or  five  cents. 

Yet  the  strength  of  the  Turkish  workman  with 
such  a  slim  diet  is  amazing.  The  hamals  or 
porters  can  carry  loads  of  from  two  hundred  to 
eight  hundred  pounds — the  most  astounding 
burden-bearers  in  the  world.  It  is  nothing  for 
one  of  them  to  carry  a  piano  on  his  back.  I  have 
counted  twenty-four  chairs  upon  one  hamal. 

Perhaps  it  is  because  of  their  simple  diet  as 
well  as  because  of  the  soothing  effect  of  their  cli- 
mate and  the  absence  of  excitement  and  worry, 
that  the  Orientals  do  not  need  exercise  as  much 
as  we  do.  They  never  suffer  from  indigestion, 
although  they  will  remain  sedentary  from  morn- 
ing to  night.  The  idea  of  walks  or  games  or 
horseback  rides  for  the  sake  of  exercise  seems 
preposterous  to  them. 

It  might  be  of  interest  to  know  some  of  the 
Turkish  dishes.  Food  made  from  milk  they  are 

[96] 


ENDER   of  liquorice  water. 


THE    REAL    TURK 

very  fond  of — a  relic  of  their  pastoral  life,  per- 
haps. The  most  famous  dish  of  this  kind  is 
yaourt,  a  form  of  cultured  milk,  which  has  the 
consistency  of  thick  sour  milk,  and  can  even  be 
carried  in  a  handkerchief.  It  is  made  from  the 
milk  of  the  cow  and  also  from  goat's  milk  and 
from  that  of  the  buffalo-cow,  which  is  rich  in 
cream.  No  more  delicious  food  than  this  has 
ever  been  invented  for  hot  weather. 

Sutlach  is  a  rice-milk  of  the  consistency  of 
gruel,  very  delicate  and  easy  to  eat  when  the  ap- 
petite flags.  Then  there  is  mdhaldbi,  something 
like  cornstarch  pudding,  eaten  with  sugar  and 
rose  water ;  and  taouk-gok-sud,  or  chicken-breast 
milk,  made  of  grated  chicken-breasts.  All 
of  these  dishes  are  appetizing  and  easily 
digested. 

The  Orientals  are  fond  also  of  sweet  pastries, 
of  which  they  make  many  delicious  kinds. 
Ekmek-ka-daif  is  a  sort  of  bread  soaked  in 
honey  and  eaten  with  the  kaimak  or  thick  cream 
of  the  buffalo-cow,  made  up  in  the  consistency 
of  cottage-cheese.  Or  if  you  prefer,  there  is 
paklava  made  of  thin  layers  of  pastry  with 
honey  and  ground  English  walnuts  between  the 

[97] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

layers.  Tel-ka-dcdf  is  made  of  strings  of  pastry 
soaked  in  honey. 

These  dishes  are  almost  cloying  in  their  sweet- 
ness— there  is  nothing  weak  about  them!  Half 
a  portion  would  fill  most  people  with  dulcitude 
enough  to  last  for  days. 

In  vegetables  and  fruits  the  Orient  is  rich. 
Many  of  our  fruits  originated  in  the  East  and 
were  brought  to  Europe  by  the  Arabian  con- 
quests and  commerce.  In  Constantinople  one 
can  get  fresh  fruits  almost  all  the  year  'round. 

Strawberries  commence  in  May  to  call  to  the 
hillsides  of  the  Bosphorus  the  pickers,  who  fill 
the  marketplaces  with  baskets  of  the  luscious 
fruit.  Cherries  appear  in  June  and  last  for  a 
month  or  more — for  two  cents  you  can  get  all 
you  can  eat,  and  they  are  delicious  on  hot,  dusty 
tramps  in  the  country.  Just  as  the  cherries  go 
the  melons  begin  to  come  in.  There  are  many 
varieties  of  them  and  they  last  into  the  autumn. 
Then  the  figs  and  grapes  appear.  It  is  worth 
while  visiting  Constantinople  if  only  to  buy  a 
bunch  of  those  magnificent  grapes  from  a  street 
vender — large  and  beautiful  clusters  that  will 
carry  you  back  to  Sunday  school  days  and  the 

[98] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

picture-cards  portraying  the  spies  of  Moses 
bringing  back  from  the  brook  Eshcol  a  huge 
bunch  of  grapes  upon  a  pole  between  their 
shoulders.  Perhaps  then  you  had  periods  of 
doubt  and  scepticism,  as  I  did,  but  come  to  Con- 
stantinople, and  for  two  cents  you  can  get  a 
bunch  large  enough  to  dispel  your  doubts. 

Pears  and  apples  last  into  the  winter,  and  in 
January  there  begin  to  appear  the  splendid  Jaffa 
oranges  and  tangerines  from  Egypt,  and  the 
cycle  is  complete. 

Fresh  vegetables  also  can  be  obtained  almost 
through  the  year.  Tomatoes,  peas,  and  beans 
begin  to  come  from  Egypt  in  February.  Lettuce 
and  cabbages  can  be  picked  fresh  from  the  gar- 
dens about  Constantinople  as  late  as  January. 
The  egg-plant  is  a  favorite  vegetable,  as  is  the 
okra. 

Meats  are  poor  in  Turkey,  all  except  chicken 
and  mutton.  The  beef  comes  from  Russia,  Bul- 
garia, and  South  America  and  is  poor.  Chickens 
are  cheap,  but  one  tires  of  them.  The  mutton  is 
good,  but  is  cut  in  peculiar  ways.  The  meat  of 
the  hog  is  of  course  not  to  be  had  in  Moham- 
medan countries  except  from  Christian  butchers. 

[99] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

The  Turks  have  a  favorite  dish  which  consists  of 
egg-plant  stuffed  with  chopped  onions  and  rice, 
and  cooked  in  oil — delicious  but  hearty.  They 
also  stuff  marrows  with  chopped  meat  and  rice. 
Another  dish  is  rice  wrapped  in  grape-leaves  and 
steamed. 

Last,  but  not  least,  is  the  great  staple  food  of 
the  Orient,  pilaff,  which  is  as  necessary  to  their 
existence  as  the  potato  is  to  the  Irish.  Pilaff  is 
rice  cooked  in  a  certain  way  so  as  to  preserve  each 
grain  distinct  and  firm.  It  is  made  from  un- 
polished rice,  the  little  white  powder  about  each 
grain  forming  a  gelatinous  coat  in  cooking.  It 
is  boiled  in  mutton  fat  and  has  a  delicious 
flavor.  There  is  a  chemical  difference  in  the  rice 
thus  cooked,  owing  to  this  little  coat  of  gelatine 
about  each  grain,  which  makes  it  easier  to  digest 
than  our  rice.  Often  I  sigh  for  pilaff  as  the  He- 
brews did  for  the  fleshpots  of  Egypt.  It  is  a 
unique  dish,  and  a  much  more  satisfying  and 
healthful  staple  than  potatoes.  There  are  dif- 
ferent forms  of  pilaff:  it  is  sometimes  cooked 
with  small  currants  and  pinenuts,  and  sometimes 
mixed  with  bits  of  roast  mutton,  when  it  is  called 
kebab-pilaff.  The  most  delicate  pilaff  is  that 

[100] 


THE    REAL    TURK" 

made  by  the  Persians  and  flavored  with  orange 
peel.  A  plate  full  of  the  pilaff  with  the 
freshly-cooked  mutton  sliced  and  scattered 
through  it,  followed  by  a  bowl  of  yaourt,  a  cup 
of  Turkish  coffee  and  a  cigarette,  puts  you  in  a 
condition  of  contentment  where  you  do  not  envy 
even  kings. 

Before  I  leave  the  subject  of  food  I  must  men- 
tion a  Persian  dinner  to  which  I  was  once  invited 
in  Ramleh,  a  suburb  of  Alexandria.  It  was  nine 
o'clock  before  we  reached  the  house.  I  was  very 
hungry,  as  I  had  been  travelling  all  day,  and  was 
ready  to  sit  right  down  and  eat.  But  we  chatted 
away  in  the  guest  room  with  no  hint  of  food  until 
I  began  to  wonder  if  the  cook  had  absconded  or 
had  had  his  head  chopped  off  for  flirting  with  my 
friend's  wife.  It  was  ten  o'clock.  Still  the  talk 
went  on,  my  host  entertaining  me  in  execrable 
French  and  I  answering  in  worse.  I  don't  know 
which  of  us  was  the  more  bored,  but  I  hope  he 
did  not  feel  any  worse  than  I  did. 

At  last  the  signal  for  dinner  came,  just  in  time 
to  save  me  from  an  acute  attack  of  nervous  pros- 
tration. It  was  eleven  o'clock.  If  I  had  only 
known  that  it  was  the  Persian  custom  to  do  the 

[101] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

after-dinner  talking  before  dinner,  to  dine  late 
at  night,  and  to  fall  asleep  immediately  after,  I 
should  have  fortified  myself  with  a  supper  at  six 
o'clock  and  been  spared  this  agony. 

The  meal  progressed  through  the  various 
stages  of  salad,  meat  and  pilaff,  and  vegetables, 
until  it  came  to  fricasseed  partridge.  I  was 
mildly  surprised  to  see  my  host  pick  up  several 
choice  bits  of  this  delicacy  with  his  fingers  and 
put  them  on  my  plate.  That  is  a  great  cour- 
tesy in  the  East.  I  was  not  able  to  eat  all  the 
meat  he  gave  me,  and  at  the  end  a  perfectly 
good  wing  was  still  left  on  my  plate.  As  my  Per- 
sian friend  passed  my  plate  to  the  servant  he 
took  off  this  wing  with  his  fingers  and  put  it 
back  on  the  platter.  We  have  only  to  go  four 
hundred  years  back  to  find  similar  customs 
prevalent  in  the  best  society  of  England. 

Often  the  Orientals  eat  without  individual 
plates — the  peasants  always  do.  A  bowl  of  soup 
is  put  down  on  the  table  and  all  attack  it  with 
big  wooden  spoons  until  it  is  annihilated.  Then 
meat  may  come  on  in  little  rolls,  and  these  they 
eat  with  their  fingers.  A  bowl  of  yaourt  is  next 
placed  in  front  of  them  and  that  is  scooped  out 

[102] 


THE    REAL    TURK1 

with  pieces  of  bread.  When  the  meal  is  finished 
the  only  utensils  to  be  washed  are  the  wooden 
spoons  and  a  few  bowls  and  platters.  This  is 
what  one  might  call  simplified  housekeeping. 


[103] 


A  GREAT  OTTOMAN  PATRIOT  AND 
TEACHER 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  GREAT  OTTOMAN  PATRIOT  AND 
TEACHER 

The  movement  instituted  in  the  Ottoman 
Empire  by  the  so-called  New  Turk  party  was 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  events  in  history — 
unique  in  the  closeness  and  secrecy  of  its  organi- 
zation, unique  in  its  greatness  of  accomplishment 
with  so  little  expenditure  of  force,  and,  above 
all,  unique  in  the  change  it  wrought  in  Turkey 
from  the  grossest  absolutism  to  the  highest 
kind  of  idealism.  Perhaps  no  country  in  the 
world  was  controlled  by  a  foody  of  men  so  ideal 
in  their  policies,  so  truly  patriotic,  so  utterly  de- 
voted to  the  welfare  of  their  native  land, 
as  those  who  governed  Turkey  after  the 
Revolution. 

The  explanation  of  this  is  easy  to  give.  Every 
movement  from  the  Old  to  the  New  calls  out 
idealism,  devotion  and  self-sacrifice.  Such  a 
movement  can  only  be  brought  to  pass  by  those 
who  are  ready  to  suffer  for  it — to  give  their  lives 

[107] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

for  it,  if  necessary.  And  who  brought  about  the 
renovation  of  Turkey?  It  is  just  such  men  as 
these ;  men  who  had  already  dearly  paid  for  their 
patriotism  by  prison  and  exile,  by  confiscation 
of  property,  by  long  years  of  waiting.  The  more 
we  sacrifice  for  a  cause,  the  more  we  are  ready 
to  sacrifice  further  for  it;  and  those  who  give 
most — not  those  who  get — are  the  ones  who  love 
most.  Therefore  it  happened  that  the  men  who 
came  back  to  Turkey  from  exile,  from  imprison- 
ment, from  expatriation,  came  back  with  charac- 
ters purged  as  by  fire,  came  back  with  ideals  of 
service  of  a  height  reached  only  in  the  great 
epochs  of  a  nation's  history.  They  are  the 
George  Washingtons,  the  Adamses,  the  Jeffer- 
sons  of  Turkey.  Among  these  idealists  there  is 
none  of  loftier  devotion,  of  purer  motives,  of 
wider  vision,  than  Tewfik  Fikret  Bey.  Although 
he  has  never  been  in  exile,  his  life  is  typical  of 
true  Turkish  patriotism,  and  gives  us  a  glimpse 
of  the  oppression  under  the  old  regime. 

Fikret  Bey  was  born  and  brought  up  in  Stam- 
boul,  the  Turkish  quarter  of  Constantinople. 
When  he  was  a  young  man  his  father  received 
one  of  those  appointments  which  the  Sultan  so 

[108] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

generously  gave  to  all  suspected  radicals ;  in  this 
case  it  was  the  governorship  of  Acca,  a  penal 
town  on  the  coast  of  Syria,  of  very  unhealthful 
climate  and  unsanitary  conditions.  In  this  exile 
his  parents  spent  the  rest  of  their  lives,  and  his 
father  died  there  without  Fikret's  being  allowed 
to  go  to  see  him.  The  reason  for  his  exile  was  a 
peculiar  one.  He  was  a  very  generous  man,  and 
used  to  give  in  large  quantities  to  the  poor,  who 
frequented  his  house  in  considerable  numbers. 
This  gave  his  enemies  ground  for  telling  His 
Majesty  that  he  was  trying  to  make  himself 
popular  with  the  people  and  that  he  was  a  dan- 
gerous man.  As  the  Sultan  did  not  wish  any- 
one to  be  popular  in  Constantinople  except 
himself,  he  sent  the  man  to  Acca,  where  he  could 
practice  his  charity  without  danger.  In  conse- 
quence of  this  experience,  Fikret  Bey,  who  is  as 
generous  as  his  father  was,  has  been  obliged  to 
be  very  cautious  and  circumspect  in  his  charities, 
never  giving  openly. 

Meanwhile  Fikret  had  been  sent  to  the  Galata 
Serai  for  his  education.  This  college,  although 
a  government  institution,  was  founded  and  op- 
erated under  French  influence;  and  no  doubt 

[109] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Fikret  imbibed  many  liberal  ideas  there.  The 
French  language  opened  up  to  him  the  store- 
house of  Western  knowledge  and  thought,  and 
he  read  deeply  along  these  lines. 

After  graduating  he  was  appointed  teacher 
there,  a  position  in  which  he  was  very  successful 
and  popular  with  his  students.  He  is  a  born 
teacher.  While  he  was  at  the  Galata  Serai,  one 
of  the  most  interesting  episodes  of  his  life  took 
place.  A  new  Turkish  weekly  was  started  called 
the  Serveti  Funnoun  or  "Treasures  of  Science," 
and  he  was  appointed  editor-in-chief.  In  this 
position  he  had  a  splendid  outlet  for  his  abilities 
as  a  writer  and  a  leader.  The  paper  had  some 
measure  of  freedom  at  first,  and  Fikret  exercised 
an  influence  over  the  young  men  of  his  time  in  a 
direct  and  personal  way  even  more  than  in  what 
he  wrote.  This  young  man,  possessed  of  a  most 
charming  personality,  a  writer  and  thinker,  and 
of  broader  learning  than  most  of  his  contemp- 
oraries, began  to  be  the  leader  and  idol  of  the 
youth  of  Constantinople;  and  the  office  of  the 
Serveti  Funnoun  became  the  rendezvous  of  a 
coterie  of  liberal  young  men  who  gathered  there 
from  week  to  week  to  discuss  modern  and  radical 

[110] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

subjects.  Fikret  Bey  was  one  of  those  men — 
cheerful,  sympathetic,  intuitive — who  know  how 
to  appreciate  and  draw  out  ability  in  others ;  and 
he  inspired  many  young  geniuses  to  think  and  to 
write.  His  influence  at  this  time  was  great. 

But  such  a  state  of  affairs  could  not  go  on  for 
long.  Any  man  who  was  popular  and  any  home 
to  which  visitors  gathered  in  too  great  numbers 
became  objects  of  suspicion.  It  was  inevitable 
that  some  envious  person  should  report  these 
meetings  at  the  office  of  the  Serveti  Funnoun  to 
the  Sultan,  and  take  advantage  of  his  despotic 
nature  to  arouse  suspicion  against  this  brilliant 
young  editor  who  was  so  popular  with  the  youths 
of  Constantinople.  The  homes  of  the  editors 
were  searched  and  all  their  books  confiscated. 
Several  members  of  the  staff,  including  Fikret 
Bey,  were  imprisoned  and  brought  to  trial  at  the 
palace.  Nothing  of  serious  nature  could  be 
proved  against  them,  and  after  a  few  days  they 
were  set  free.  But,  although  liberated  from  the 
material  prison,  Fikret  Bey  walked  forth  an  ob- 
ject of  suspicion — a  mental  and  moral  prisoner 
for  ten  long  years.  For  a  year  or  more  he  re- 
mained in  close  retirement,  not  daring  to  assume 

[in] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

any  duties  of  a  public  character.  It  was  at  the 
end  of  this  period  that  he  commenced  his  work 
as  Professor  of  Turkish  at  Robert  College,  with 
which  he  was  connected  until  the  Revolution 
broke  out,  nine  years  in  all.  This  was  the  darkest 
period  of  his  life.  Very  few  people  came  to  see 
him.  He  was  forced  to  exercise  the  greatest  cau- 
tion in  regard  to  his  actions,  and  none  of  his 
powers  of  leadership  and  thought  could  find  ex- 
pression. He  was  obliged  to  see  his  country, 
which  he  loved  with  such  a  passionate  love, 
robbed  and  oppressed  by  the  Padishah,  and  in  no 
way  could  he  serve  it.  His  genius  and  his  pa- 
triotism smouldered  within  him  and  turned  to 
pessimism.  He  became  melancholy,  even  sad; 
yet  throughout  it  all  he  maintained  his  kindness, 
his  unselfishness  and  his  charm  of  personality, 
which  nothing  could  subdue. 

It  is  hard  to  realize  in  America  what  the  op- 
pression under  the  old  regime  was.  It  was  not 
only  that  things  could  not  be  written  in  the 
papers,  or  spoken  in  public,  but  it  was  hardly 
possible  even  for  people  to  converse  together  on 
political  or  liberal  subjects.  Meetings  were  for- 
bidden, and  the  mere  dining  together  of  sus- 

[112] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

pected  people  would  be  dangerous.  Spies  were 
everywhere.  The  officials  at  the  steamboat  land- 
ings were  obliged  to  make  reports  on  the  pas- 
sengers, and  sentinel-boxes  were  stationed  at 
convenient  places  so  that  watch  might  be  kept  on 
suspected  houses.  At  Therapia,  along  the  quay 
in  front  of  the  different  embassies,  there  were  al- 
ways men  fishing;  weather  never  interfered 
with  their  sport,  because  they  were  paid  by  the 
Sultan  to  spy  on  the  embassies  and  see  who  went 
in  and  out  of  them.  On  all  the  boats  and  cars 
and  in  public  places  where  men  might  gather  and 
talk,  spies  were  placed  in  great  numbers,  so  that 
no  one  dared  to  talk  on  serious  subjects.  Even 
Europeans  were  obliged  to  be  cautious  in  their 
conversation  in  public  places,  and  as  for  the 
Turks,  only  such  subjects  as  are  proper  at  an 
afternoon  tea  were  open  to  them. 

Such  limitation  was  not  only  very  irksome  but 
tragic  to  a  man  like  Fikret  Bey.  He  saw  himself 
powerless  to  help  his  country.  He  could  have 
held  office  under  the  old  regime,  had  he  wished  it 
— in  fact,  he  had  been  appointed  at  an  earlier 
date  to  a  position  in  the  Sublime  Porte,  in  con- 
nection with  the  Foreign  Office ;  but  after  a  short 

[113] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

service  in  that  capacity,  seeing  how  rotten  were 
the  conditions  there,  he  resigned.  His  resigna- 
tion was  not  accepted  by  the  government,  and 
for  years  his  name  was  down  on  the  books  for 
that  position  and  he  could  have  drawn  a  salary 
all  that  time  without  doing  a  stroke  of  work. 
This  experience  showed  him  that  even  to  hold  a 
public  office  would  not  give  him  the  slightest  op- 
portunity for  real  service.  The  system  was  too 
strong. 

During  his  long  period  of  helplessness,  he 
turned  to  various  things  for  amusement  and  for 
an  outlet  to  his  energies.  One  thing  which  ab- 
sorbed his  attention  for  some  time  was  the  de- 
signing and  superintending  of  his  new  residence 
near  the  college  grounds,  on  a  hill  overlooking 
the  Bosphorus.  He  was  the  sole  architect  of  this 
house,  which  is  unique  in  its  way,  full  of  delight- 
ful angles  and  viewpoints.  On  the  top  is  a 
cupola  commanding  a  magnificent  view  of  the 
Bosphorus,  in  which  he  spent  much  of  his  time. 
A  model  which  he  had  made  in  cardboard  he 
used  to  show  with  childlike  pleasure  to  his  vis- 
itors :  it  was  made  with  great  neatness  and  skill, 
an  exact  replica  of  the  house  and  grounds  with 

[114] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  paths  winding  in  and  out  among  tiny  bushes 
of  green  tissue  paper.  He  took  much  delight  in 
working  in  the  garden  himself,  planting  trees, 
weeding  the  flowers — forgetting  his  troubles  in 
communion  with  Nature. 

Another  thing  which  served  in  some  way  as  a 
means  of  expression  for  his  artistic  nature  was 
painting,  of  which  he  was  very  fond,  and  in 
which  he  had  attained  a  great  deal  of  skill  and 
feeling  in  an  amateur  way — for  he  was  self- 
taught.  He  rigged  up  a  studio  for  himself  in 
his  study,  and  decorated  the  walls  of  his  home 
with  the  productions  of  his  own  brush. 

While  professor  at  Robert  College,  he  of 
course  came  into  relation  with  Europeans  and 
Americans,  and  had  some  social  life  in  common 
with  them;  but  not  much,  because  for  his  own 
sake  foreigners  did  not  dare  to  call  upon  him  too 
often.  His  beautiful  wife  has  been  a  true  help- 
mate and  consolation  to  him.  She  is  of  course 
also  liberal  in  her  ideas,  and  on  several  occasions 
went  to  social  functions  given  by  the  Americans 
and  mingled  freely  with  them  without  a  veil;  but 
as  her  husband  was  threatened  with  imprison- 
ment if  he  continued  to  permit  this,  she  had  to 

[115] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

remain  veiled,  as  far  as  Americans  and  other 
foreigners  were  concerned.  She  is  a  woman  who 
would  be  an  attraction  in  any  social  gathering. 

At  the  time  when  I  first  met  Fikret  Bey  he 
was  under  this  cloud — sad  and  without  hope 
for  himself  or  for  his  country.  How  could  he 
know  that  so  soon  the  clouds  were  to  pass,  the 
bonds  were  to  be  broken,  and  he  was  to  be  free 
to  dedicate  his  genius  to  the  service  of  Turkey! 
It  was  in  June  that  I  saw  him  thus  depressed. 
On  the  24th  of  July  the  Revolution  burst  out 
like  lightning  from  a  clear  sky,  and  from  that 
day  on  Fikret  Bey  was  in  the  full  exercise 
of  his  powers,  and  overdriven  with  work. 

As  soon  as  the  Constitution  was  declared  and 
the  restrictions  were  removed  from  public  speech 
and  from  the  press,  many  Turkish  newspapers 
and  journals  came  into  existence.  Of  one  such 
paper,  The  Tanine,  Fikret  was  urged  by  his 
friends  to  become  editor-in-chief,  and  under  his 
management  it  made  an  excellent  reputation. 
Thorough  and  conscientious  in  everything  that 
he  undertakes,  he  devoted  himself  with  great 
earnestness  to  the  work,  going  over  very  care- 
fully everything  published  in  the  paper,  even  to 

[116] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  advertisements,  revising  articles  which  were 
faulty  or  poor  in  style,  and  often  almost  re- 
writing certain  parts.  Here  again,  as  when  edi- 
tor of  the  Serveti  Funnoun,  he  did  Jiis  best  to 
encourage  rising  genius.  It  was  very  hard  for 
him  to  refuse  articles.  "Let  us  give  a  chance," 
he  would  say,  "to  these  young  men  who  have 
never  had  as  yet  an  opportunity  to  write  for  the 
public." 

While  connected  with  The  Tanine,  Fikret  Bey 
received  two  offers  which  he  declined:  one  was  to 
be  Minister  of  Education,  and  the  other  was  to 
be  President  of  Galata  Serai.  His  friends  could 
not  make  out  why  he  refused  these  opportunities 
for  service,  the  first  of  which  was  especially  de- 
sirable and  suited  to  his  acquirements  and  learn- 
ing. The  reason  he  gave  was  that  he  wished  to 
found  a  school  of  his  own  when  the  time  came 
and  that  he  could  not  be  satisfied  with  either  of 
these  positions.  He  was  also  offered  a  professor- 
ship of  Turkish  Literature  in  the  Turkish  Uni- 
versity at  Constantinople,  but  he  refused  that, 
saying  that  he  was  not  capable  of  filling  it.  Sev- 
eral different  men  had  to  be  engaged  to  take  the 
place,  which  he  alone  could  easily  have  filled. 

[117] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Meanwhile  his  work  on  the  paper  was  becom- 
ing very  arduous  and  confining.  On  account  of 
his  high  ideal  of  what  a  newspaper  ought  to  be, 
he  gave  so  much  time  to  revision  that  he  had  no 
opportunity  of  writing  anything  himself,  or  of 
doing  any  other  original  work.  He  was  con- 
stantly urged  to  give  up  a  position  which  allowed 
such  little  opportunity  for  an  expression  of  his 
real  genius ;  and  in  the  winter  an  illness  brought 
on  from  overwork  inclined  him  to  listen  to  this 
advice.  At  about  this  time  many  of  the  alumni  of 
the  Galata  Serai  who  had  been  students  of  his 
when  he  was  professor  there  persuaded  him  to 
accept  the  presidency  of  the  College,  assuring 
him  that  it  would  go  to  ruin  if  he  did  not.  So 
he  became  President  of  the  Galata  Serai. 

During  his  administration  there  he  made  many 
changes.  The  school  was  really  in  a  bad  condi- 
tion when  he  began  his  work — disorganized, 
badly  disciplined  and  more  or  less  corrupt  in  its 
management.  He  improved  it  wherever  possi- 
ble. It  was  unfortunately  under  certain  limita- 
tions of  a  political  character  which  rendered  it 
impossible  to  make  a  clean  sweep.  Again  he  was 
hampered  by  politics,  and  was  forced  to  resign 

[118] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

from  the  Galata  Serai.  He  was  immediately 
welcomed  back  to  Robert  College  as  the  head  of 
the  Turkish  Department,  where  he  has  since  re- 
mained. 

The  idol  of  his  heart  and  the  goal  of  his  am- 
bitions was  to  found  a  school  of  his  own  in  which 
he  could  be  absolutely  free  to  carry  out  his  own 
ideas  of  education.  He  would  model  it  some- 
what after  Des  Moulin's  school — with  a  great 
deal  of  freedom  in  the  government  of  the  stu- 
dents, small  groups  in  individual  houses  and 
close  relations  between  teacher  and  student. 
This  plan  of  a  school  to  fit  young  men  for  mold- 
ing the  future  of  Turkey  came  to  his  mind  im- 
mediately after  the  founding  of  the  Constitution. 

This  ideal  school  would  train  the  students  to 
appreciate  their  personal  dignity,  their  duties 
and  their  social  and  political  rights.  All  the 
latest  ideas  of  teaching  and  pedagogy  would  be 
realized  here.  The  instruction  would  be  more 
than  merely  scholastic.  Attention  would  be 
given  to  physical  culture  and  manual  labor.  The 
students  would  learn  how  to  use  the  hammer  and 
saw,  how  to  take  care  of  gardens,  etc. — in  fact, 
they  would  be  trained  in  all  the  requirements  of 

[119] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

actual  life.  The  attention  and  observation  of  the 
students  would  be  cultivated  by  experimental  in- 
struction. The  system  of  instruction  would  have 
for  its  purpose  to  develop  supple  and  able  in- 
tellects and  not  merely  to  cram  the  mind  with 
knowledge. 

The  course  of  study  in  this  school  would  be  de- 
signed to  cover  eight  years  and  to  turn  the  stu- 
dent out  at  the  end  of  that  time  not  only 
equipped  with  a  general  education,  but  also  pre- 
pared to  take  up  and  practice  the  special  profes- 
sion he  might  have  chosen.  Thus  the  students 
would  be  able  to  earn  their  own  living  immedi- 
ately upon  graduating,  and  would  complete  their 
professional  knowledge  in  the  practice  of  their 
profession.  This  would  necessitate  the  omission 
of  a  good  deal  of  mere  book  knowledge.  The 
aim  of  the  system  would  be,  in  the  words  of 
Fikret  Bey,  to  "develop  a  logical  reason  and  to 
trace  a  framework  of  general  ideas,  luminous 
and  precise.  Education  is  a  means,  and  not  an 
end." 

The  shortening  of  the  course  to  eight  years 
would  be  imperative  on  account  of  the  imme- 
diate need  of  Turkey  for  young  men  trained,  not 

[120] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

in  the  old  bureaucracy,  but  in  the  highest  social 
and  civic  ideals.  In  the  last  years  of  the  course, 
civic  instruction  would  be  made  the  pivot  around 
which  everything  else  would  center.  Lectures 
would  be  frequently  given  on  the  great  national 
and  social  problems.  The  school  would  try  to 
efface  all  race  hatred  and  intolerance.  Excur- 
sions would  be  made  at  home  and  abroad  for 
social,  historical  and  economic  study. 

Care  would  be  taken  to  prepare  the  student 
for  social  life,  and  to  overcome  such  idiosyncra- 
cies  as  timidity,  egotism,  and  emotionalism. 
They  would  be  taught  how  to  speak  and  act  in 
society.  Numerous  sports  would  form  part  of 
the  training,  such  as  hunting,  fishing,  riding  on 
horseback,  canoeing  and  swimming — the  pur- 
pose of  these  being  not  only  to  perfect  the  body 
but  to  cultivate  sangfroid  and  precision — mens 
sana  in  corpore  sano. 

At  present  the  young  Turk  has  no  career  open 
to  him  except  in  the  bureaucracy.  Fikret  would 
not  only  fit  his  students  for  other  professions, 
such  as  agriculture  and  business,  but  would  en- 
deavor to  overcome  that  prejudice  which  exists 
in  the  minds  of  the  Turks  for  any  but  a  govern- 

[121] 


THE    REAL,    TURK 

ment  position.  If  the  constitutional  government 
in  Turkey  has  come  to  stay,  and  if  the  country 
is  to  progress  with  rapid  strides  in  the  develop- 
ment of  its  resources  and  institutions,  what  a 
great  need  there  is  for  just  such  a  school  as  this, 
which  would  send  out  young  men  filled  with  the 
highest  ideals  and  equipped  with  the  knowledge 
necessary  to  serve  their  country!  It  is  because 
of  a  dearth  of  such  men  now  that  the  Young 
Turk  party  can  accomplish  so  little  of  immediate 
reform.  The  people  must  be  educated  up  to  it. 
It  may  be,  also,  that  such  a  school,  if  it  could 
be  successfully  initiated,  would  give  instruction 
to  the  West  in  the  matter  of  education.  Can  we 
pretend  that  our  system  of  higher  education  is  a 
model  one?  Is  it  fitted  to  the  times?  Does  it 
turn  out  men  of  character?  Has  it  got  rid  of 
all  "sterile  book-knowledge,"  as  Fikret  calls  it? 
The  great  need  of  Turkey,  by  the  law  of  neces- 
sity, may  call  forth  a  better  system  of  education 
than  our  modern  Occident  contains. 

Fikret  Bey  is  the  second  greatest,  if  not  the 
greatest,  poet  of  the  Ottoman  Empire.  The  lau- 
reateship  of  Turkey,  if  such  a  thing  existed,  he 

[122] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

would  have  to  share  with  Abdul  Hak  Hamid, 
the  poet  and  dramatist,  for  Fikret  is  a  purely 
lyric  poet  and  his  work  is  limited  in  quantity. 
In  the  year  1899-1900,  at  about  the  time  he 
came  to  Robert  College,  he  brought  out  a  small 
edition  of  his  poetry  with  the  consent  of  the  Min- 
ister of  Public  Instruction.  The  edition  was. 
quickly  exhausted  and  has  never  been  re- 
published.  Since  then  he  has  written  a  few 
poems  of  patriotic  nature,  one  of  which  became 
immediately  famous  all  over  Constantinople,  al- 
though it  was  never  printed,  but  had  to  be  passed 
on  orally  on  account  of  the  strictness  of  censor- 
ship under  the  old  regime.  It  is  known  as  The 
Mists,  and  is  a  lamentation  over  Constantinople, 
the  Queen  of  the  East,  mistress  of  so  many  peo- 
ples, gradually  sinking  into  obscurity.  The 
poem  is  in  part  as  follows: 

A  cloud  holds  thy  horizon  in  clinging  embrace; 
An  obscurity  white  slowly  grows  o'er  thy  face, 
Blotting  out  and  absorbing;  the  mist's  heavy  net 
Veils  the  scene,  as  with  dust,  to  a  faint  silhouette — 
A  majestic  dust  veil,  what  lies  '  neath  this  robe 
By  its  folds  is  concealed — our  regard  cannot  probe. 
But  thee,  oh  how  fitly  do  sad  veils  conceal, 
Arena  of  horrors,  fit  nought  should  reveal. 
Arena  of  horrors,  yea,  majesty's  stage; 
O  glorious  setting  for  tragedy's  rage! 
[128] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Thou  of  greatness  and  pomp  at  once  cradle  and  grave; 
Queen  eternally  luring,  the  Orient  thy  slave. 
What  bloody  amours  with  no  shuddered  protest 
Have  been  held  to  thy  generous  harlot  breast. 
Oh  within  the  deep  Marmara's  azure  embrace, 
As  one  dead  sleepest  thou,  whilst  her  waves  thee  enlace. 
Old  Byzance,  still  thou  keepest  immune  to  all  harm, 
After  husbands  a  thousand,  thy  fresh  virgin  charm; 
Thy  beauty  the  magic  of  youth  still  retains, 
The  trembling  of  eyes  seeing  thee  yet  remains. 
To  the  eye  of  the  stranger  how  lookest  thou  dame, 
With  thy  languorous  sapphire-blue  eyes,  oh  how  tame ! 
But  the  tameness  is  that  of  the  woman  of  shame, 
Without  dole  for  the  tears  shed  o'er  thee,  o'er  thy  fame. 
As  though  sapping  thy  very  foundations  in  gloom, 
A  traitor  hand  added  the  poison  of  doom, 
O'er  each  particle  spreadeth  hypocrisy's  stain; 
Not  one  spot  of  purity  there  doth  remain; 
All  stain:  of  hypocrisy,  jealousy,  greed, 
Naught  else  and  no  hope  of  aught  else  hence  proceed. 
Of  the  millions  of  foreheads  protected  by  thee, 
How  few,  shining  clearly,  and  pure  may  one  see? 
Thou  Debauched  of  the  Ages,  sleep  on  till  mists  fail. 
Veil  thyself,  O  thou  Tragedy,  O  city,  veil.* 

This  poem  reveals  in  its  sad  strains  utter  hope- 
lessness and  pessimism.  Soon  after  the  revolu- 
tion of  last  July,  however,  which  wrought  such  a 
great  change  in  Turkey,  Fikret  wrote  a  sequel 
to  The  Mists,  taking  for  his  theme  The  New 
Constantinople. 

*From   translation   by   Miss    Hester   D.   Jenkins.     The   Open 
Court,  1909. 

[124] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

His  poetry  marks  an  advance  in  spontaneity 
and  freedom  of  form  over  that  which  has  here- 
tofore represented  Turkey — for  Turkish  poetry 
in  the  past  has  been  of  very  rigid  meter,  with 
much  rhyme  and  little  flexibility.  He  has  tried 
new  forms  of  meter,  more  European  in  character, 
and  his  lyrics  are  full  of  feeling  and  music. 
Many  of  them  are  written  in  praise  of  nature  and 
contain  that  beautiful  imagery  which  is  pecu- 
liarly the  gift  of  the  Oriental. 

The  character  of  Tewfik  Fikret  Bey  is  lofty, 
as  his  personality  is  charming.  The  best  people 
among  the  Turks  seem  to  possess  a  "New  Eng- 
land conscience,"  if  one  may  use  that  term — a 
conscience  and  an  ideal  which  put  them  at  once 
above  all  temptation  of  power,  influence,  or  lux- 
ury. One  cannot  imagine  Fikret  Bey  commit- 
ting the  slightest  act  of  selfishness,  greed,  or 
narrow  partisanship.  It  was  with  difficulty  that 
he  could  be  persuaded  to  accept  money  for  pri- 
vate lessons  which  he  gave  while  connected  with 
Robert  College.  The  poor  he  has  had  always  in 
mind,  and  his  charity  toward  them,  exercised  in 
numerous  hidden  ways,  was  all  the  more  praise- 
worthy, because  under  the  old  regime  such  things 

[125] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

were  difficult  and  likely  to  arouse  suspicion.  His 
kindness  and  generosity  are  so  great  as  to  attach 
all  his  friends  to  him  with  an  ardent  devotion. 
At  the  same  time  he  possesses  a  natural  dignity 
and  a  passionate  nature  which  make  him  the  last 
man  in  the  world  to  trifle  with.    It  is  this  com- 
bination of  qualities  which  made  him  such  an  ex- 
cellent teacher  and  administrator.    His  personal 
courage  is  great.    During  the  late  reaction  his 
name  was  upon  the  list  of  those  who  were  to  be 
killed.    He  was  urged  to  go  into  hiding,  but  he 
replied:  "If  it  is  my  destiny  to  be  killed,  I  shall 
be  killed;  if  it  is  not,  I  shall  live,"  and  he  abso- 
lutely refused  to  hide.     It  was  evidently  his 
destiny  to  live,  for  Constantinople  was  rescued 
before  any  harm  could  come  to  him.    His  coun- 
try needed  such  a  man,  whose  ideals  are  of  the 
purest  and  loftiest  kind,  whose  patriotism  is  as 
far-seeing  as  it  is  ardent,  and  whose  character 
is  unimpeachable.     It  is  because  Turkey  can 
produce  such  men  as  this  that  her  future  looks 
hopeful. 


[183] 


TURKISH  SCHOOLS 


CHAPTER  VIII 
TURKISH  SCHOOLS 

Education  in  Turkey  is  at  present  in  an  inter- 
esting state  of  transition;  it  has  been  and  still  is, 
to  a  large  extent,  purely  scholastic.  Could  we 
transport  ourselves  to  the  Europe  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  we  should  see  just  the  kind  of  education 
which  has  held  sway  in  Mohammedan  countries 
since  the  day  of  Mohammed.  The  chief  pur- 
pose of  the  schools  has  been  to  educate  the 
clergy;  the  basis  of  education  has  been  the  Koran 
with  its  commentaries,  and  the  Sunna  or  Book  of 
Traditions  about  Mohammed,  just  as  in  Medi- 
eval Europe  religious  speculation  formed  the 
chief  interest  of  scholars. 

The  Koran,  however,  holds  even  greater  sway 
in  the  higher  Islamic  education,  for  the  reason 
that  it  furnishes  the  chief  basis  for  both  civil  and 
religious  law.  Hence  it  is  the  text-book,  not 
only  of  theologians,  but  also  of  jurists.  Science 
in  the  modern  sense  has  never  played  a  large  part 
in  such  an  educational  system.  Extreme  reli- 

[129] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

gious  faith  opposes  free  inquiry  and  criticism  as 
blasphemous. 

However,  this  naivete  of  mind  cannot  endure 
in  the  face  of  Western  progress  and  Western 
triumphs,  because  of  the  application  of  modern 
science  to  the  needs  of  life.  Modern  schools  are 
slowly  being  established  throughout  the  Orient, 
and  the  higher  education  consists  of  more  than 
theology  and  jurisprudence.  The  introduction 
of  modern  medical  schools,  both  Turkish  and 
Christian,  has  done  much  to  hasten  this  progress. 
Constantinople  possesses  an  excellent  school  of 
this  kind,  and  there  are  today  many  Turkish 
physicians  of  good  training  and  professional 
equipment. 

But  let  us  begin  at  the  beginning,  which  in 
any  educational  system  is  the  primary  schools. 
In  the  East  these  are  called  "mosque  schools"  and 
are  under  the  domain  of  the  clergy,  as  they  still 
are  in  the  Catholic  countries  of  Europe.  The 
teachers  are  usually  mullahs  or  softas.  The 
Koran  takes  its  preeminence  from  the  start: 
every  day  verses  are  learned  from  this  sacred 
text  and  recited  viva  voce  by  the  class  in  unison. 
The  louder  they  shout  the  better,  and  the  hodja 

[130] 


N    old   style    Turk — rather   impervious 
to   things  modern,   but  full   of  native 
dignity  and  character. 


THE    REAL    TURK 

or  teacher  leads  the  chorus,  joining  with  his  own 
loud  voice  when  the  recitation  flags,  or  beating 
time  peremptorily  with  his  bamboo  wand.  It 
makes  no  difference  that  these  verses  are  in 
Arabic  and  are  not  understood  by  the  children. 
At  other  times  when  a  single  pupil  is  reciting, 
the  others  pay  no  attention  but  go  on  studying 
aloud,  so  that  the  school  room  is  always  noisy, 
and  to  Western  senses,  disorderly.  The  elemen- 
tary subjects,  such  as  reading,  writing  and 
arithmetic,  are  more  or  less  successfully 
taught,  as  are  also  bits  of  geography  and 
history,  strongly  colored  by  patriotism  and 
religion. 

Girls  and  boys  attend  these  schools  together 
and  are  intellectual  companions  until  the  age  of 
puberty,  which  comes  much  earlier  in  Eastern 
countries  than  in  the  West.  Such  schools  exist, 
in  the  imagination  of  the  Turkish  Minister  of 
Education,  in  every  town  and  village  of  the  Em- 
pire; but  in  reality  they  exist  only  where  local 
effort  keeps  them  going,  which  is  chiefly  in  cities, 
large  towns  and  suburbs.  They  are  very  poorly 
equipped  (the  pupils  have  no  chairs  or  desks  but 
sit  on  mattresses  upon  the  floor),  sadly  lacking 

[181] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

in  funds,  and  provided  with  teachers  whose 
learning  and  efficiency  would  not  come  up  to 
even  the  poorest  European  standards.  Educa- 
tion is  not  compulsory,  and  the  lower  classes 
seldom  send  their  children  to  school.  Thus  the 
illiteracy  of  Mohammedan  countries  is  enormous. 
Mature  persons  can  hardly  count  in  simple  num- 
bers. An  old  Turkish  woman  who  sold  her  own 
needlework  in  a  street  of  Constantinople  asked 
me  to  count  up  my  few  purchases  and  tell  her 
what  they  amounted  to — a  testimony  both  to  the 
ignorance  and  to  the  simple,  honest  trust  of  the 
average  Mohammedan  mind  among  the  lower 
classes. 

With  the  primary  schools  the  girls'  public  edu- 
cation stops.  There  is  no  higher  education  for 
women  as  yet  in  Mohammedan  countries,*  al- 
though movements  are  already  on  foot  to  es- 
tablish schools  for  such  a  purpose.  If  the  girl 
belongs  to  a  family  of  the  upper  classes,  she  may 
receive  further  education  at  home.  Many  Turk- 

*  Exceptions  to  this  are  the  Sultan  Ahmed  School,  the  oldest 
in  Constantinople,  where  girls  can  study  grammar,  arithmetic, 
Persian,  Turkish,  history  and  embroidery;  and  the  Dar-ul-malu- 
mat,  also  in  Constantinople,  a  normal  school  for  the  training  of 
women  teachers.  There  are  also  a  few  orphan  schools  where  girls 
learn  sewing  and  embroidery. 

[182] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

ish  women  of  the  aristocracy  have  a  thorough 
training  in  French  and  sometimes  in  English, 
and  spend  their  idle  hours,  of  which  they  possess 
a  great  abundance,  in  reading.  The  Moham- 
medan has  never  considered  it  necessary  for 
women  to  have  trained  minds,  any  more  than  he 
would  think  of  cultivating  the  intellect  of  his 
donkey  or  ox.  That  attitude  is  rapidly  chang- 
ing, however,  thanks  to  the  invasion  of  the  New 
Woman  movement  even  into  the  heart  of  the 
Orient.  The  progressive  Turks  are  beginning 
to  prefer  to  have  progressive  wives,  of  mental 
ability  equal  to  their  own — true  helpmates  and 
intellectual  companions. 

Meanwhile  the  boys,  more  fortunate  than  their 
sisters,  go  on  acquiring  knowledge  in  the  second- 
ary schools,  which  are  modeled  somewhat  upon 
the  French  Lycee.  These  schools  are  planned 
for  each  large  center  of  population,  but  their  ex- 
istence is  sporadic  and  precarious.  Again  we 
find  poor  equipment — no  libraries  or  laborato- 
ries— and  unsanitary  buildings,  lack  of  funds, 
and  too  great  a  preponderance  of  the  clergy  in 
the  teaching  force.  The  leading  secondary  school 
of  the  Empire,  however,  the  Galata  Serai  in 

[  133  ] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Constantinople,  is  an  exception.  Lately  this 
school  has  been  housed  in  a  magnificent  new 
building  on  the  height  of  Pera,  and  it  is  the  pride 
of  the  Turkish  heart.  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
visiting  Fikret  Bey,  at  the  time  when  he  was 
director,  in  his  magnificently  appointed  office ;  he 
is  very  fond  of  this  school,  from  which  he  himself 
graduated,  and  in  which  he  served  years  ago  as 
teacher.  The  courses  of  instruction  here  are 
thoroughly  modern,  with  fine  lecture  rooms,  lab- 
oratories, and  dormitories  for  the  resident  stu- 
dents, and  the  young  men  who  graduate  are  at 
the  point  in  education  reached  by  our  juniors  at 
college. 

There  are  several  secondary  schools  or  mekya- 
tub  idadie  of  this  nature  in  Constantinople.  I 
frequently  visited  one  of  these  in  Cabatash, 
where  a  Turkish  friend  of  mine  was  sub-master 
— a  man  of  real,  unselfish  devotion  to  his  work 
and  to  the  school,  the  growth  of  which  he  watched 
with  great  delight.  After  the  Revolution  the 
Ministry  of  Education  made  extensive  plans  for 
the  improvement  of  the  schools  which  they  were 
never  able  completely  to  carry  out  through  lack 
of  funds,  but  this  particular  institution  was  for- 

[134] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

tunate  enough  to  receive  money  for  repairs  and 
equipment.  Part  of  it  was  rebuilt,  and  new  lec- 
ture halls  and  laboratories  put  in.  It  was  touch- 
ing to  see  the  delight  with  which  my  friend 
showed  the  physical  laboratory  with  its  up  to 
date  equipment,  proudly  turning  on  faucets  and 
moving  the  various  pieces  of  apparatus.  A  per- 
fectly-equipped laboratory  was  to  him  a  sort  of 
miracle,  a  sign  of  the  New  Turkey. 

After  looking  around  the  school  we  would  go 
to  visit  the  principal  in  his  cozy  office,  where  we 
were  always  entertained  in  Turkish  fashion  with 
coffee  and  cigarettes.  The  walls  of  the  office 
were  decorated  with  oil  paintings,  some  of  which, 
quite  charming  works  of  art,  were  painted  by  the 
principal  himself.  He  was  a  perfect  gentleman 
—a  man  of  power  and  yet  of  extreme  kindness, 
for  whom  one  cannot  help  forming  an  affec- 
tion. His  smile,  lighting  up  his  strong  Turkish 
face,  put  me  immediately  at  ease  and  made  me 
feel  the  warmth  of  his  friendship.  These  two 
men — he  and  my  friend — worked  together  in 
perfect  accord  to  improve  and  build  up  their 
school,  and  they  tried  hard  to  secure  more  funds 
in  order  to  carry  out  their  work  and  make  it  per- 

[135] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

feet  in  its  every  detail.  (I  fear  the  army  has 
since  absorbed  the  money  which  should  have 
fallen  to  the  share  of  education.) 

I  was  shown  here  a  map  of  Europe,  used  in 
the  geography  classes,  upon  which  Greece, 
Egypt  and  the  Balkan  states  were  colored  as  be- 
longing to  Turkey.  The  Orientals  do  not  like 
to  face  facts.  In  the  teaching  of  history,  prior 
to  the  Revolution,  all  reference  to  historic  revolu- 
tions was  tabooed.  Sociology  was  not  taught  at 
all. 

There  exists  in  Constantinople  an  Ottoman 
University — the  highest  expression  of  education 
in  Turkey.  It  has  departments  of  Letters,  Sa- 
cred Law,  and  Theology.  Its  work  is  much  lim- 
ited by  scholasticism,  and  it  cannot  be  said  to 
turn  out  real  scholars.  It  forms  a  basis,  however, 
upon  which  a  real  university  may  some  day  be 
erected.  It  is  well  equipped  with  seats  and 
desks,  but  there  are  no  libraries  to  study  from, 
and  no  laboratories  for  the  direct  study  of  the 
physical  sciences.  The  chief  means  of  instruc- 
tion is  by  lectures,  as  in  the  medieval  universities 
of  Europe.  Even  the  text-books  are  ancient. 
Until  a  few  years  ago  physics  was  taught  from 

[136] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

an  Arabic  text-book  over  a  thousand  years  old — 
dating  from  the  Cordova  period. 

There  are  theological  schools  or  medreses,  con- 
nected with  the  leading  mosques,  whose  students, 
called  softas,  are  given  free  tuition  and  lodging, 
and  in  addition  a  small  sum,  about  five  dollars  a 
month,  which  is  sufficient  to  feed  them  in  the  sim- 
ple Oriental  way.  Strange  that  divinity  schools 
in  the  East,  as  well  as  in  the  West,  have  to  offer 
more  inducements  than  secular  schools  do!  The 
medrese  adjoins  the  mosque,  with  which  it  is  of- 
ficially connected.  The  students  live  in  very 
simple  rooms  or  booths  opening  into  the  central 
court.  They  sleep  on  matting,  and  cook  their 
own  food  on  charcoal  braziers.  The  sums  doled 
out  to  the  students,  enough  to  keep  them  fed  and 
clothed,  tempt  many  Turks  to  become  theolo- 
gians. Indeed,  the  popularity  of  this  comfortable 
cloistered  existence  has  been  so  great  as  to  form 
a  scandal.  Examinations  were  merely  nominal, 
and  thousands  of  students  continued  to  live 
on  to  old  age  in  the  eager  ( ?)  acquisition  of  re- 
ligious knowledge.  At  the  time  when  the  Young 
Turks  came  into  power  there  were  some  twenty 
thousand  softas  in  Constantinople  alone.  The 

[137] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Young  Turks  instituted  a  reform,  established 
more  rigorous  examinations,  and  turned  away 
many  of  these  spiritual  attaches.  There  are  still 
large  numbers  of  them,  however,  and  if  you  pass 
by  one  of  the  larger  medreses  at  the  close  of  the 
day  you  will  meet  hundreds  of  them  pouring  out 
of  the  court  of  the  mosque  and  filling  the  streets 
with  their  white  turbans  and  scowling  faces — 
for  their  theology  does  not  seem  to  have  mel- 
lowed their  characters.  They  are  among  the 
most  fanatical  and  haughty  of  all  Moslems. 

The  chief  Mohammedan  educational  institu- 
tion of  the  Near  East  is  the  great  University  of 
Cairo,  said  to  be  one  of  the  largest  in  the  world, 
with  its  enrollment  of  over  eight  thousand  stu- 
dents. This  university  is  a  relic  of  the  days  when 
Islam  led  the  world  in  education,  and  Christians 
from  all  over  Europe  attended  its  great  uni- 
versities at  Cairo  and  Cordova,  bringing  back 
with  them  ideals  which  led  to  the  founding  of 
universities  at  Bologna  and  Paris,  and  the  es- 
tablishment of  higher  education  in  Medieval 
Europe. 

Christians  are  not  welcomed  at  this  university, 
even  as  visitors.  In  order  to  see  its  interior  I 

[138] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

went  there  with  an  Arab  friend  in  the  disguise  of 
a  Turk — a  simple  transformation  for  which  only 
a  fez  is  required.  We  passed  from  the  exterior, 
where  we  took  off  our  shoes,  into  the  great  court. 
There  we  saw  different  groups  of  students  seated 
cross-legged  upon  the  tiled  floor  around  their 
professors,  taking  notes,  or  listening  to  exposi- 
tions. The  Orientals  in  writing  hold  a  piece  of 
paper  on  the  left  palm  and  write  with  queer 
wooden  pens.  Other  lectures  were  given  in  inner 
courts  and  classrooms,  but  nowhere  did  I  see  any 
modern  equipment  of  blackboards,  desks  or  sci- 
entific apparatus.  The  university  is  noted 
chiefly  for  its  courses  in  Arabic,  in  which  it  is 
one  of  the  leading  authorities.  The  education 
offered  is  mostly  scholastic,  including  also  in- 
struction in  Turkish  and  Persian,  the  study  of 
the  Koran,  the  Sunna,  and  commentaries  upon 
both,  and  training  in  religious  dialectics. 

It  is  interesting  to  see  the  order  in  disorder 
which  characterizes  such  a  school.  With  ap- 
parently no  system,  and  with  distractions  which 
would  upset  American  classes,  all  goes  smoothly 
and  quietly  in  the  true  Oriental  way.  The  great 
respect  for  the  teacher  or  hodja  and  the  simple 

[139] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

earnestness  and  lack  of  initiative  of  the  Oriental, 
serve  as  checks  to  any  possible  disturbance. 
While  classes  are  going  on  in  some  parts  of  the 
large  court,  in  other  parts  students  are  cooking 
their  midday  meal  over  charcoal  braziers,  and 
eating  together.  There  is  none  of  the  bustle  and 
appearance  of  administration  which  characterize 
an  American  university. 

This  university  at  Cairo  is  a  hotbed  of  political 
discontent — the  cradle  of  the  Young  Egyptian 
movement;  its  students  are  always  engaging  in 
strikes,  processions  and  protests  against  the 
government. 

With  all  these  institutions  of  learning,  an  Ori- 
ental can  scarcely  acquire  an  up  to  date  educa- 
tion unless  he  goes  to  a  European  university. 
Paris  and  Geneva  have  contributed  more  to  the 
enlightenment  of  the  Turks  than  all  their  own 
schools,  or  the  schools  of  the  missionaries  in  Tur- 
key, which  the  Turks  have  never  attended  in 
large  numbers. 

Education  in  Moslem  countries  admirably 
illustrates  the  need  of  constant  progress  and  im- 
provement in  our  changing  world.  The  Moham- 
medan schools,  once  the  best  in  the  world  (if  we 

[140] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

except  those  of  China  and  India),  furnishing 
in  the  Middle  Ages  inspiration  and  guidance  not 
only  to  the  adherents  of  their  own  religion,  but 
also  to  Christian  Europe,  preserved  and  spread 
abroad  the  treasures  of  the  Greek  learning — 
geometry,  science,  philosophy — and  added 
thereto  their  own  contributions  in  the  realms  of 
mathematics  and  chemistry;  but  since  then  the 
Western  World  has  grown  in  knowledge  and 
wisdom,  while  the  East  has  remained  stationary. 
It  seems  unkind  to  Islam  to  say  that  Islam  is  the 
cause  of  this  stagnation — yet  such  is  the  case. 
The  only  reason  that  there  is  hope  for  a  progres- 
sive educational  system  in  Turkey  is  that  religion 
is  waning,  and  that  the  hold  of  the  Koran  upon 
the  most  modern  Turks  is  very  slight. 

As  has  been  previously  said,  excellent  plans 
have  been  made  for  a  broad  and  thorough  educa- 
tional system  in  Turkey,  but  they  cannot  be  car- 
ried out  at  present  for  lack  of  funds.  The 
budget  is  made  up  with  particular  attention  to 
the  army  and  navy;  and  certainly  the  aspect  of 
the  political  horizon  at  present  does  not  encour- 
age the  Turks  to  divert  their  funds  from  these 
channels  of  defence. 

[141] 


AMERICAN  INFLUENCE  ON 
TURKISH  EDUCATION 


CHAPTER  IX 

AMERICAN  INFLUENCE  ON  . 
TURKISH  EDUCATION 

American  educational  institutions  have  played 
a  large  part  in  the  uplifting  of  Turkey.  Unfor- 
tunately, however,  they  have  never  had  an  op- 
portunity of  directly  influencing  the  Young 
Turk  mind,  as  they  have  influenced  mind  and 
character  in  China  and  Japan,  for  the  reason 
that  Turks  have  seldom  been  enrolled  in  these 
schools,  owing  to  the  mandates  of  the  ex-sultan. 
Up  to  the  time  of  the  Turkish  Revolution  there 
were  in  Constantinople  only  one  Turkish  man 
and  one  Turkish  woman  who  had  graduated 
from  an  American  college.  It  can  easily  be  seen, 
therefore,  that  American  schools  played  little 
part  in  the  political  liberation  of  Turkey  from 
the  tyranny  of  Abdul  Hamid,  the  claims  of  mis- 
sionary writers  on  the  Near  East  notwithstand- 
ing. This  Revolution  was  purely  Turkish, 
planned  and  carried  out  by  men  who  had  never 
seen  the  inside  of  an  American  school. 

[145] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

When,  however,  the  constitutional  govern- 
ment was  established  in  a  new,  free  Turkey,  the 
excellent  work  of  the  American  educational  in- 
stitutions was  recognized  by  the  Young  Turks 
themselves,  who  were  glad  to  copy  ideas  and 
methods,  and  to  cooperate  with  them  in  every 
Hvay  possible.  The  government  set  aside  a  fund 
with  which  to  educate  five  young  men  each  year 
at  Robert  College,  and  the  same  number  of 
young  women  at  The  American  College  for 
Girls.  Thus  the  opportunities  for  direct  Amer- 
ican influence  on  Turkish  education  are  just  be- 
ginning. 

When  the  first  missionaries  started  work  in 
Constantinople  and  Smyrna,  some  fifty  years 
ago,  efforts  were  made  to  convert  Moham- 
medans. The  success  was  not  large.  I  en- 
quired of  one  missionary  who  had  just  finished  a 
service  of  fifty  years  in  Constantinople  how 
many  Mohammedans  had  been  converted  there 
Within  his  memory.  He  thought  of  one.  This 
one  later  turned  out  to  be  a  rascal,  and  the  mis- 
sionaries were  therefore  not  inclined  to  boast  of 
him.  When  Abdul  Hamid  came  to  the  throne,  in 
1878,  he  pledged  the  missionaries  not  to  attempt 

[U6J 


19  c 


iS     8 


THE    REAL    TURK 

to  proselyte  among  the  Mohammedan  popula- 
tion of  his  Empire ;  so  since  that  time  their  work 
has  been  confined  to  the  Christian  sects — Ar- 
menian, Bulgarian  and  Greek.  The  pictures 
shown  by  missionaries  of  their  students  in  the 
native  schools,  sitting  cross-legged  with  red 
fezzes  on,  might  lead  one  to  think  them  Turks; 
but  they  are  not  Turks,  in  spite  of  the  fez, 
which  all  subjects  of  the  Turkish  Empire  may 
wear. 

This  same  condition  is  true  in  other  Moham- 
medan countries:  that  mission  work  is  largely 
confined  to  the  native  Christian  population.  In 
Persia,  the  missionaries  work  mainly  among  the 
Nestorian  and  the  Armenian  Christians.  Very 
little  proselyting  among  the  Mohammedans  is 
attempted,  although  medical  aid  is  given  them. 
Such  a  thing  as  a  Mohammedan's  becoming  con- 
verted is  very  rare.  In  Syria  the  work  is  among 
the  Syrian  Christians.  They  need  education  and 
social  uplift.  In  Egypt,  it  is  the  Coptic  Chris- 
tians who  receive  the  attention  of  the  mission- 
aries; although  this  country  has  been  under 
French  and  English  rule  for  some  time,  and  pro- 
tection has  been  given  the  missionaries,  very  little 

[147] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

success  has  been  attained  among  the  Moham- 
medans. 

I  was  speaking  with  one  of  the  older  mis- 
sionaries who  has  been  in  Egypt  for  fifty  years. 

"How  many  converts  from  Mohammedanism 
have  been  made  in  Egypt  during  these  fifty 
years?"  I  asked. 

"About  one  hundred  and  fifty,"  he  answered. 

"In  all  Egypt?" 

"Yes,  and  even  then  you  are  not  sure." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  said.  "They  be- 
come Christians  for  interested  motives?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "Some  do  it  in  order  to 
get  aid,  or  Christian  patronage  for  business."  (I 
had  been  told  by  native  Egyptians  that  such  was 
the  case,  and  that  the  Mohammedans  who  be- 
came converted  to  Christianity  were  men  of  no 
character.) 

"Do  you  think,  then,"  I  asked,  "that  there  is 
any  hope  of  the  Mohammedans  ever  becoming 
converts  to  Christianity?" 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  am  afraid  not." 

This  is  the  verdict  of  a  man  who  has  worked 
for  fifty  years  among  Mohammedans  under  the 
most  favorable  conditions.  Such  opinions,  how- 

[148] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

ever,  do  not  as  a  rule  reach  the  churches  of  this 
country. 

I  asked  the  same  question  of  a  missionary  who 
was  born  and  brought  up  in  Turkey,  and  whose 
father  was  a  missionary  before  him — both  of 
them  men  of  learning  and  authority  in  the  mis- 
sionary world. 

"Do  you  believe  the  Mohammedans  will  ever 
be  converted  to  Christianity?"  I  asked. 

"No,  and  there  is  no  need  of  it." 

"You  think  the  Mohammedans  have  a  good 
religion  of  their  own?" 

"Certainly." 

"You  would  limit  the  mission  work  to  trying 
to  correct  the  faults  of  Mohammedanism?" 

"Yes.  And  even  then,  have  we  not  faults  of 
our  own?  Can  Christians  afford  to  throw  stones? 
I  believe  the  Mohammedans  will  reform  their 
own  religion,  as  we  did  ours." 

Here  is  one  of  the  broadest  missionaries  one 
could  meet.  If  all  were  like  him,  there  would 
be  more  chance  of  the  Mohammedans  being,  if 
not  converted,  at  least  influenced  by  Christianity. 

We  see,  then,  not  only  that  little  success  has 
been  met  with  in  the  Mohammedan  world,  and 

[149] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

that  the  work  there  is  mainly  among  native 
Christians,  but  also  that  the  more  progressive 
missionaries  have  given  up  the  idea  of  conversion 
altogether.  They  do  not  believe  in  it.  In  the 
first  place  they  feel  it  is  too  difficult,  and  in  the 
second  place  they  believe  that  more  can  be  done 
by  influencing  Mohammedanism  itself — letting 
the  progressive  followers  of  that  religion  bring 
about  a  reform  from  within,  adopting  anything 
in  the  Christian  religion  which  appeals  to  them. 
In  fact,  the  missionaries  who  have  lived  among 
Mohammedans  are  usually  broader  and  more 
tolerant  than  their  lay  supporters  at  home. 

The  influence  of  American  missionaries,  never- 
theless, upon  the  native  Christian  population 
of  Turkey,  to  whom  their  work  was  largely 
confined,  has  already  been  immense.  It  might 
almost  be  said  that  whatever  the  Bulgarians,  Ar- 
menians >  Copts  and  Syrians  have  of  modern  edu- 
cation and  national  culture  is  due  to  the  foreign 
missionary  schools  in  their  midst,  foremost 
among  which  stand  the  American  schools.  It 
was  the  missionary  educators  who,  together  with 
the  native  priests,  first  aroused  these  subject 
races  from  the  lethargy  of  ignorance  and  de- 

[150] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

spair  into  which  they  had  fallen  under  the  rule  of 
the  Turk,  who  had  done  his  best  to  suppress  their 
racial  consciousness,  culture,  and  even  written 
languages.  The  missionaries,  by  awakening  the 
intellectual  interest  of  the  Bulgarians  and  Ar- 
menians, did  a  great  deal  toward  the  revival  of 
their  native  literatures.  Some  of  the  first  gram- 
mars and  dictionaries  of  the  Armenian  and 
Bulgarian  languages  were  compiled  by  these 
indefatigable  scholars,  whose  linguistic  ability 
and  scholarship  were  so  great  that  Bulgaria  to- 
day, in  attempting  the  translation  of  the  Bible 
into  modern  Bulgarian,  is  obliged  to  draw  largely 
from  the  translations  made  by  the  American  mis- 
sionaries of  a  generation  ago.  The  same  thing  is 
true  of  the  modern  Armenian  Bible.  All  honor 
to  the  men  who  gave  their  splendid  intellects  and 
noble  characters  to  the  awakening  of  these 
subject  peoples — Dwight,  Riggs,  Schauffler, 
Goodell,  Hamlin  and  Herrick — names  that 
must  rank  high  in  the  history  of  the  world's 
progress. 

I  know  of  no  loftier  service  than  that  of  carry- 
ing learning  to  countries  which  either  through 
misfortune  or  apathy  have  been  deprived  of  it. 

[151] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

There  is  an  immense  joy  in  such  work,  because 
of  the  pathetic  eagerness  with  which  the  natives 
of  these  backward  countries  reach  out  for  en- 
lightenment and  education.  One  does  not  have 
to  devise  means  for  urging  them  to  study — nor 
are  the  professors  hard  put  to  make  their  courses 
vie  in  popularity  with  the  pigskin  football  and 
the  little  spheroid  which  have  so  obsessed  the 
minds  of  American  students. 

There  is  a  movement  on  foot  to  reorganize  and 
unite  the  mission  schools  of  Turkey,  and  to  back 
them  with  a  large  endowment  fund  of  several 
millions.  This  would  free  them  from  the  neces- 
sity of  begging  for  funds  bit  by  bit,  and  from  too 
great  dependence  upon  the  lay  minds  of  Amer- 
ica, who  do  not  understand  the  problems  of  edu- 
cation in  the  Orient.  A  commission  has  been 
appointed,  with  a  well-known  educator  and  mis- 
sion worker  of  broad  liberal  views  at  its  head, 
to  visit  the  field  and  draw  up  plans  for  the  appli- 
cation of  the  endowment  already  mentioned. 
This  is  the  most  important  event  in  the  growth 
of  the  missionary  schools  of  the  Near  East  since 
their  inception,  and  must  result  in  great  good  to 
the  schools  themselves  and  to  Turkey.  It  will 

[152] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

put  missionary  education  on  a  broad  progressive 
basis. 

Among  the  American  schools  established  in 
Turkey  the  foremost  in  influence  has  undoubt- 
edly been  Robert  College.*  Its  situation  is 
unique — many  travellers  have  called  it  unsur- 
passed in  the  world.  On  a  high  eminence  on  the 
Bosphorus,  half  way  between  the  Black  Sea  and 
the  Golden  Horn,  it  commands  a  view  of  that 
magnificent  strait  which  is  the  constant  delight 
of  those  whose  good  fortune  it  is  to  spend  several 
years  there  as  pupils  or  as  teachers.  From  the 
college  terrace  one  can  look  down  upon  the  blue, 
dancing  waters  of  the  Bosphorus  and  watch  the 
passing  of  steamers  and  sailboats.  When  the 
moon  at  its  full  floods  these  waters  with  its  sil- 
very light,  and  the  evening  air  is  full  of  the 
breath  of  spring,  there  is  no  place  in  the  world 
where  I  would  rather  be  than  on  the  terrace  of 
Robert  College. 

The  history  of  this  institution  is  unique.  It 
has  the  honor  of  being  the  first  school,  so  far  as 
I  know,  to  be  established  in  a  Mohammedan 
country,  or  any  other  non-Christian  country, 

*  See  Chapter  X. 

[153] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

with  the  sole  purpose  of  giving  a  broad  and  up 
to  date  education,  without  any  attempt  or  under- 
motive  at  proselyting.  Robert  College  was 
never  a  missionary  institution,  and  it  has  never 
sought  to  change  the  religion  of  its  pupils. 
Greeks,  Armenians,  Bulgarians,  Jews  and  Turks 
come  here  without  having  to  fear  any  attempt  at 
modifying  their  own  religious  beliefs.  Yet  while 
the  college  has  never  attempted  to  proselyte  or 
convert,  it  has  always  aimed  at  influencing  for 
good  the  character  and  morals  of  its  students. 
That  it  succeeds  in  this,  the  abundant  testimony 
of  those  who  come  in  contact  with  Robert  Col- 
lege graduates  in  business  or  travel  bears  wit- 
ness. 

Three  names  are  inseparably  connected  with 
the  college — that  of  Mr.  Robert,  its  generous 
founder;  that  of  Cyrus  Hamlin,  its  first  presi- 
dent, whose  unique  personality  is  well-known  to 
the  American  public  through  his  book,  "My 
Life  and  Times;"  and  that  of  Dr.  Washburn,  its 
second  president,  who  built  it  up  to  the  proud 
position  which  it  holds  today.  The  interesting 
story  has  been  many  times  told :  how  Mr.  Robert 
first  conceived  the  idea  of  carrying  Western  edu- 

[154] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

cation  to  the  East;  how  he  fell  in  with  Cyrus 
Hamlin,  then  a  missionary  in  Constantinople, 
and  selected  him  for  the  difficult  task  of  starting 
an  American  college  on  Turkish  soil;  and  how 
Dr.  Hamlin  worked  against  great  odds  until  he 
finally  secured  the  present  magnificent  site  with 
permission  to  build.  The  remaining  history  of 
the  college  is  one  of  gradual  growth.  At  present 
it  numbers  some  500  students,  and  has  an  endow- 
ment of  about  two  millions  (larger  than  that  of 
many  a  famous  American  college) ,  thanks  to  the 
generosity  of  the  late  Mr.  Kennedy,  who  had 
been  for  ten  years  on  its  board  of  trustees.  With 
this  ample  endowment  Robert  College  has  a 
magnificent  future  ahead  of  it. 

A  school  of  civil  engineering  is  being 
added  to  the  College  proper,  and  other  branches, 
such  as  medical  and  commercial  schools,  that 
are  much  needed  in  the  East,  will  soon  be 
founded.  School  organization  in  the  Orient 
presents  many  difficulties  which  do  not  exist 
in  this  country.  One  cannot  employ  al- 
together Anglo-Saxon  methods  nor  carry  out 
Anglo-Saxon  ideals  in  such  a  school.  To  an 
American  teacher  who  comes  new  to  the  institu- 

[155] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

tion,  its  whole  method  seems  Oriental — yet  there 
is  enough  American  spirit  in  it  to  influence  tre- 
mendously the  lives  and  thoughts  of  its  pupils. 
They  enjoy  here  a  liberty  such  as  they  would 
never  know  in  their  native  schools.  Their  char- 
acter and  self-reliance  are  developed,  so  that 
when  they  leave  the  college  they  have  a  solid 
foundation  upon  which  to  build  their  life  work, 
whatever  that  is  to  be. 

Teachers  and  pupils  live  in  close  intimacy. 
Dormitory  and  table  bring  them  together  daily. 
These  boys  of  the  Orient  are  eager  to  know  about 
the  West,  and  love  to  discuss  the  problems  of 
twentieth  century  life  which  the  unfolding  edu- 
cation brings  to  their  notice.  Hence  many  ties 
are  formed,  both  with  teachers  and  with  fellow- 
students,  which  are  broadening  and  ennobling. 

The  complex  nature  of  the  student  body,  con- 
sisting as  it  does  of  five  or  six  nationalities,  sev- 
eral of  whom  on  their  native  heaths  are  deadly 
enemies  of  each  other,  presents  many  difficulties ; 
but  it  is  a  profound  source  of  tolerance  and  cos- 
mopolitanism when  used  to  advantage.  As  the 
students  approach  graduation,  after  living 
closely  together  for  five  or  six  years,  they  have 

[156] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

become  much  more  tolerant  of  each  other's  racial 
peculiarities  and  religion  than  they  were  at  the 
beginning.  They  have  learned  to  respect,  if  not 
to  like,  one  another;  and  they  even  learn  to  en- 
dure their  American  teachers,  who,  it  must  be 
confessed,  carry  over  a  good  deal  of  blatant  jin- 
goism and  pride  to  that  ancient  seat  of  empire, 
Constantinople. 

The  Orientals  naturally  resent  the  assumption 
of  superiority  which  every  American  holds  for 
his  country — yet  at  the  bottom  of  their  hearts 
they  admire  America  profoundly,  and  look  to 
her  as  the  leader  in  the  struggle  for  individual 
liberty  and  culture.  Many  upon  graduation 
enter  American  universities  for  further  study. 
Others  go  to  the  universities  of  England,  Ger- 
many and  France.  These,  when  they  return  at 
last  to  their  native  country,  are  progressive  and 
cosmopolitan  to  a  degree — true  citizens  of  the 
world  who  are  able  to  judge  impartially  of  the 
merits  and  faults  of  every  country  and  who  strive 
to  develop  their  own  country  to  the  highest 
efficiency. 

The  direct  influence  of  Robert  College  upon 
the  peoples  she  has  worked  among  is  greatest  in 

[157] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  case  of  the  Bulgarians,  who  in  the  early  days 
of  the  college  composed  the  majority  of  its  stu- 
dents. Before  a  free  Bulgaria  ever  existed,  Bul- 
garians were  imbibing  learning  and  freedom  at 
Robert  College;  and  after  the  freeing  of  that 
doughty  little  country  (and  this  was  due  largely 
to  the  interest  and  sympathy  for  that  race  which 
one  of  the  Robert  College  professors,  Dr.  Long, 
was  able  to  arouse  in  Europe  and  particularly  in 
England)  many  of  Bulgaria's  leading  statesmen, 
including  her  greatest  prime  minister,  were 
found  to  be  graduates  of  Robert  College.  At 
that  time  these  graduates  were  the  only  educated 
men  in  Bulgaria;  now  Bulgarians  have  fine 
schools  of  their  own,  and  the  influence  of  the 
American  college  on  the  Bosphorus  is  not  so 
strong — but  every  patriotic  Bulgarian  looks 
back  with  gratitude  to  the  part  that  Robert  Col- 
lege played  in  the  development  of  his  country. 

Among  the  Turks  Robert  College  has  had  as 
yet  little  direct  influence,  because  she  has  never 
graduated  but  one  of  their  race  (Abdul  Hamid 
would  not  let  them  come  to  such  a  hotbed  of 
liberty) .  Now  there  is  a  large  influx  of  Turkish 
students,  since  the  government  is  quite  friendly 

[158] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

to  the  College,  which  has  tremendous  opportuni- 
ties of  service  in  the  development  of  the  New 
Turkey.  America  has  a  right  to  be  proud  of 
this  college  on  the  hill  which  overlooks  the  tower 
of  Mohammed  the  Conqueror,  now  almost  five 
centuries  old — a  symbol,  one  hopes,  of  the  dur- 
ability and  strength  of  this  progressive  Christian 
institution. 

Another  college  which  has  done  a  great  work 
in  the  Orient  is  the  Syrian  Protestant  College  at 
Beirut.  Here,  as  at  Robert  College,  the  Ameri- 
cans have  secured  the  finest  site  in  the  neighbor- 
hood— a  piece  of  high  ground  out  from  the  city, 
on  the  seacoast,  which  overlooks  the  blue  waters 
of  the  Mediterranean  to  the  distant  mountains  of 
Lebanon — a  charming  scene.  This  college  is  the 
largest  American  institution  in  the  Near  East, 
containing  some  thousand  students,  a  large 
corps  of  American  professors,  and  many  depart- 
ments of  learning.  It  is  famous  all  over  the 
East  for  its  medical  school — the  best  in  that  part 
of  the  world — in  which  Dr.  Post,  one  of  the 
greatest  surgeons  not  only  in  Syria,  but  in  the 
whole  world,  gave  a  long  life  of  service. 

Dr.  Post's  career  suggests  one  point  in  regard 
[159] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

to  missionaries  which  needs  discussion — the  ques- 
tion of  material  rewards.  The  world  has  looked 
upon  the  missionary  too  much  as  a  person  who 
should  do  without  all  earthly  rewards  and  com- 
pensations. In  a  period  when  the  chief  work 
of  the  missionary  was  to  teach  Christianity  and 
to  proselyte,  a  type  of  men  were  drawn  into  the 
field  whose  religious  enthusiasm  was  so  great 
that  they  were  willing  to  sacrifice  everything  to 
their  work.  But  now  the  scope  and  direction  of 
missionary  work  is  somewhat  changing.  The 
majority  of  missionaries  go  into  the  field  as 
trained  teachers,  doctors,  nurses — secondarily  as 
proselyters  of  Christianity.  Necessarily  this  im- 
plies a  more  professional  training,  and  a  need  of 
specialization.  Is  not  a  teacher,  or  doctor,  or 
nurse  who  goes  abroad  to  practice  his  profession 
just  as  deserving  of  material  compensation  as 
those  who  stay  at  home?  In  fact,  the  most  able 
services  can  be  had  only  by  paying  adequate 
wages.  Those  mission  schools  whose  professors 
are  primarily  sectarian  Christians  and  with 
whom  teaching  is  a  side  issue  cannot  build  up  in- 
stitutions of  real  scholarship.  If  one  may  take 
the  word  of  Bishop  Brent,  who  has  studied  close 

[160] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

at  hand  the  mission  work  in  the  Philippines,  the 
young  men  and  women  who  are  at  present  going 
out  as  missionaries  are  not  by  any  means  above 
the  average  in  intelligence,  breadth  and  ability. 
Dr.  Post  was  of  another  type — a  genius  in  his 
profession — and  he  earned  the  wages  of  a  genius. 
His  medical  practice  among  the  rich  Syrians  and 
Arabs  was  very  lucrative,  and  before  he  died  he 
had  amassed  a  considerable  fortune,  and  built  a 
summer  home  among  the  Lebanons  which  is  the 
most  magnificent  in  the  whole  district. 

The  student  body  of  the  Protestant  Syrian 
College  is  composed  of  Greeks,  Syrians,  Arabs, 
Egyptians,  and  a  few  Turks  and  other  nation- 
alities. It  vies  with  Robert  College  in  prestige 
and  influence,  and  is  doing  a  splendid  work  in 
education  and  technical  service. 

A  third  institution,  the  American  College  for 
Girls  in  Constantinople,  is  perhaps  the  most  in- 
teresting of  all  the  American  schools  in  the 
Orient,  because  of  its  wonderful  work  in  bring- 
ing higher  education  to  Oriental  women.  It  is 
unique  in  its  kind — in  no  other  institution  in  all 
Turkey  or  in  the  whole  East  can  women  go  so 
far  in  education  as  here.  It  has  recently  become 

[161] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

famous  through  the  career  of  its  first  Turkish 
graduate,*  who  played  a  leading  part  in  the 
journalism  which  sprang  up  after  the  Revolu- 
tion. Several  years  ago  this  college  severed  it- 
self from  The  American  Board  of  Missions,  in 
order  to  have  the  complete  freedom  and  inde- 
pendence of  an  endowed  college.  Since  then  it 
has  received  numerous  gifts,  including  that  of  a 
new  site  on  the  European  side  of  the  Bosphorus, 
just  a  mile  below  Robert  College — a  huge  estate 
of  fifty  acres,  with  beautiful  hillsides,  gardens 
and  terraces,  where  it  is  erecting  a  noble  group  of 
buildings  for  its  future  home. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  performance  of  "As 
You  Like  It"  which  was  given  out  of  doors  on 
these  new  grounds  by  the  students  of  the  College. 
The  Orientals  are  wonderful  actors  by  tempera- 
ment, and  they  had  received  a  splendid  training 
for  this  play.  The  part  of  Rosalind  was  taken 
by  a  graceful  young  Greek  girl  with  reddish 
golden  hair.  Her  acting  was  entrancing — so 
fresh,  so  natural  and  exuberant!  One  felt 
throughout  the  play  all  the  romance  of  the  East 
and  the  ardor  of  the  Oriental  girls,  who  lived 

»  Halliday  Hanum. 

[162] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

their  parts.  It  has  spoiled  the  play  for  me  ever 
after,  for  I  cannot  bear  now  to  see  paid  actresses 
of  middle  age  play  the  part  of  the  youthful 
Rosalind. 

The  college  is  splendidly  organized  and  con- 
ducted by  its  able  President,  Dr.  Patrick.  Its 
corps  of  American  women  professors  are  all 
graduates  of  American  colleges,  some  with  sev- 
eral degrees  to  their  names.  A  high  standard  of 
scholarship  is  maintained,  higher  than  that  of  its 
brother  college  at  Roumeli  Hissar,  I  am  ashamed 
to  say.  Its  students  excel  especially  in  modern 
languages,  history,  and  sociology.  Imagine  the 
inspiration  of  directing  research  work  among 
these  young  women,  whose  native  towns  and  vil- 
lages in  Turkey,  Bulgaria  and  Greece  are  full 
of  most  interesting  material  which  has  never  been 
written  up ! 

There  is  always  something  of  moment  going 
on  at  the  College:  a  lecture  by  some  prominent 
traveller  who  is  enticed  that  way;  a  fine  concert; 
a  recital  or  chorus  by  the  girls  themselves;  a 
dramatic  performance — something  to  keep  the 
students  interested  and  thoughtful  and  happy. 
One  of  the  most  important  of  such  occasions  was 

[163] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  lecture  on  Turkish  Literature  given  by 
Halliday  Hanum  after  the  Revolution,  which 
was  most  scholarly  and  charming.  Afterwards 
I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  her  at  tea,  and 
found  her  modest  and  sweet  in  spite  of  her  fame 
in  two  continents — one  of  the  most  womanly  of 
women,  a  credit  to  any  race  and  any  country,  and 
a  promise  of  what  Turkey  may  yet  become. 

The  great  event  of  the  year  at  the  college  is  of 
course  Commencement.  There  is  always  some 
noted  speaker;  and  the  American  ambassador 
gives  out  the  diplomas  to  the  "sweet  girl  grad- 
uates," with  a  few  words  of  fatherly  advice.  Very 
able  papers  are  read  by  the  graduates  themselves, 
and  it  is  interesting  to  see  what  is  the  attitude  of 
these  girls  toward  life,  as  shown  by  these  ad- 
dresses :  girls  of  varied  environment  and  heredity 
— here  one  from  Greece,  there  a  Bulgarian,  a 
Turk  or  an  Armenian.  After  the  speeches,  all 
adjourn  to  an  out-of-doors  tea  where  one  is  priv- 
ileged to  meet  the  new  graduates  and  congratu- 
late them  upon  their  entrance  into  the  life  of  the 
world.  But  many  of  them,  I  imagine,  feel  more 
sorrow  than  joy  at  leaving  this  institution  which 
has  been  an  intellectual  and  spiritual  home  to 

[164] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

them,  such  as  they  may  never  find  again  in  the 
isolation  of  their  own  native  towns. 

"What  will  be  the  future  of  these  women 
going  out  into  life?"  one  wonders.  Many  of 
them  will  "just  marry,"  as  one  of  their  teachers 
told  me  in  disgust;  but  even  married  they  may 
have  careers  before  them,  for  they  are  picked 
women,  and  are  sought  as  wives  by  the  leading 
young  men  of  Greece,  Bulgaria  and  Turkey. 
Some  of  them  marry  professors,  some  become 
wives  of  diplomats,  and  some  give  their  hands  to 
merchants  whose  wealth  affords  them  assurance 
of  wide  social  influence.  Most  of  those  who  do 
not  marry  become  teachers,  and  as  such  carry  to 
others  the  influences  they  have  received  from 
their  Alma  Mater.  A  splendid  set  of  women 
this  college  is  training  and  sending  out  each  year 
to  exert  a  quiet  influence  for  culture  and 
breadth  of  thought  and  modernism  in  the  back- 
ward East.  I  know  of  nothing  in  the  Near  East 
so  interesting  and  so  full  of  promise  as  this 
American  College  for  Girls  at  Arnaoutkeuy. 

Halliday  Hanum,  in  her  first  article  to  the 
Turkish  press  after  the  Revolution,  wrote  the 
following  beautiful  tribute  to  her  Alma  Mater: 

[165] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

"With  the  finest  subtleties  and  the  broadest  real- 
ities of  civilization  and  humanity,  you  extended 
knowledge  to  the  darkest  horizon  of  Turkey,  O 
Institution.  And  you,  honored  women,  yea,  you 
teachers,  who  left  your  own  land  to  elevate  and 
enlighten  the  dark  corner  of  this  freedomless, 
portionless  land — you  have  struggled  to  bring 
light  to  Ottoman  soil,  to  Ottoman  civilization, 
fighting  for  learning  and  culture.  The  large 
ideas  from  which  Turkey  was  shut  out,  the  great 
feelings  which  were  opened  up  to  me  in  your 
classrooms,  the  ideas  to  which  I  was  lead  in  your 
libraries,  showing  me  that  there  was  no  difference 
in  men  for  race,  class,  sect  or  religion,  these  ideas 
that  make  me  live  like  a  civilized  person,  a  hu- 
manity-loving person,  that  enabled  me  to  live 
larger  thoughts,  generous  thoughts,  thoughts 
such  as  you  were  living;  these  ideas  I  owe  you, 
O  women,  and  to  each  and  all  of  you  I  essay  to 
express  my  gratitude  and  to  live  according  to  the 
principles  which  I  owe  to  your  teaching  alone." 


[166] 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  ORIENTAL 
BOYS  AT  ROBERT  COLLEGE 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  EDUCATION  OF  ORIENTAL 
BOYS  AT  ROBERT  COLLEGE 

The  indifference  with  which  our  American 
boys  meet  their  opportunities  for  education  is  a 
cause  of  much  distress  and  perplexity  to  our 
teachers.  From  the  age  of  adolescence  to  that 
of  legal  manhood,  they  treat  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge  and  of  culture  as  a  thing  of  slight 
importance.  Their  whole  energies  are  centered 
on  athletic  contests,  either  as  participants  or  as 
spectators.  In  many  schools  women  wear  them- 
selves out  trying  to  cram  Latin,  French,  Eng- 
lish, and  geometry  down  the  boys'  throats ;  while 
parents  bewail  at  home  the  low  marks  or  the  fail- 
ures to  pass  which  show  the  sidetracking  of  the 
youthful  energy  from  paths  of  learning. 

In  the  East  the  exact  contrary  is  true.  The 
boys  would  injure  themselves  with  overstudy  if 
allowed  to,  and  have  to  be  driven  to  the  gym- 
nasium and  athletic  field.  This  results  from  two 
causes:  first,  the  scarcity  of  education  in  the 

[169] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Orient,  making  it  a  thing  of  much  demand;  and 
secondly,  the  more  thoughtful  nature  of  the 
Oriental,  which  makes  him  grapple  with  the 
serious  problems  of  life  at  an  age  when  our 
boys  are  chiefly  interested  in  ball  games  and 
girls. 

The  Oriental  peoples  live  much  more  deeply 
in  the  world  of  thought  than  we  do.  In  fact,  of 
all  countries  upon  the  globe,  the  United  States 
is  one  of  the  most  superficial  in  intellectual  mat- 
ters, the  most  easily  satisfied  to  pass  through  life 
without  delving  into  its  philosophy. 

The  Americans  are  too  busy  getting  a  living 
to  sit  down  and  think.  Their  energies  are  so 
taken  up  with  meeting  practical  and  material 
problems  that  when  they  get  through  the  day's 
work  they  could  not  think  deeply  if  they  wanted 
to.  Hence  the  light  magazines  and  the  musical 
comedies. 

Take  the  Greeks,  on  the  other  hand,  of  whom 
we  have  a  large  number  in  Robert  College. 
Their  inheritance  from  time  immemorial  has  been 
one  of  deep  metaphysical  speculation,  and  the 
world  of  thought  has  been  immeasurably  en- 
riched by  their  contributions  to  it  (we  are  not  in- 

[170] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

terested  here  in  its  evils) ;  and  the  Greeks  today 
are  the  same  as  in  the  time  of  Pericles — eager  for 
discussion,  lovers  of  the  beautiful,  quickly  sus- 
ceptible to  every  aesthetic  impression. 

The  same  thing  is  more  or  less  true  of  the  Jew, 
who  has  done  our  religious  thinking  for  us,  of  the 
Persian,  who  possesses  a  great  genius  for  specu- 
lation, and  in  greater  or  less  degree  of  the  Ar- 
menian, Bulgarian  and  Turk,  all  of  whom  are 
represented  in  the  College. 

In  regard  to  the  first  cause  of  the  Oriental 
youth's  intense  desire  for  study — the  scarcity  of 
education  in  the  East — it  is  easy  to  see  why  the 
Robert  College  boys  study  with  such  eagerness. 
They  realize  the  value  of  their  opportunity,  just 
as  in  this  country  the  boys  who  go  to  academies 
or  colleges  from  the  farm,  or  who  are  working 
their  own  way  through,  are  not  likely  to  waste 
their  time ;  education  means  better  equipment  for 
life,  and  it  is  too  valuable  to  be  thrown  away  for 
mere  amusements  and  good  times.  There  is, 
however,  an  additional  reason  which  makes  the 
education  we  offer  the  Oriental  boys  appear  of 
tremendously  inspiring  value  in  their  eyes — their 
wonder  and  overwhelming  joy  upon  realizing 

[171] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

that  the  whole  world's  learning  is  put  within 
their  grasp. 

This  fact  will  be  made  more  clear  to  the  Ameri- 
can reader  when  it  is  understood,  as  has  been  said 
in  a  previous  chapter,  that  the  races  of  the  Near 
East  are  still  in  the  past  as  regards  their  intellec- 
tual and  religious  life — that  is,  their  training  in 
these  lines  is  wholly  scholastic  and  traditional. 
Science  and  history  can  come  to  them  in  their  na- 
tive schools  only  through  the  lens  of  religion. 
The  elementary  education  begins  with  the  read- 
ing and  memorizing  of  the  Koran;  history  is 
taught  from  the  Mohammedan  point  of  view; 
law  in  Turkey  is  derived  mostly  from  the  legal 
code  of  the  Koran;  the  higher  education  in  the 
universities  is  mainly  theological;  dogma  and 
religious  authority  still  hold  sway  there,  as  they 
did  five  hundred  years  ago  over  all  Europe. 

Among  the  Greeks  the  same  thing  is  true  to 
some  extent.  The  Iliad  and  The  Odyssey  still 
furnish  the  chief  mental  food  in  the  elementary 
schools,  and  "the  glory  that  was  Greece"  some 
two  thousand  years  ago  still  furnishes  the  chief 
food  for  thought  in  the  minds  of  the  students  in 
the  higher  schools.  They  know  Plato  and  Aris- 

[172] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

totle  and  the  Greek  dramatists,  but  they  are  not 
familiar  with  modern  schools  of  thought.  They 
know  ancient  history  and  the  glorious  part 
Greece  played  in  it,  but  they  do  not  realize  the 
problems  which  confront  the  world  today.  They 
dream  that  they  are  still  marching  under  the  ban- 
ners of  a  conquering  Alexander. 

The  Armenians  are  still  worse  off,  for  up  to 
within  fifty  years  ago  they  had  little  education 
worthy  of  the  name  at  all.  The  Armenian  lan- 
guage and  culture  of  ancient  times  was  almost 
forgotten — and  it  is  the  missionaries  who  have 
revived  them,  against  the  opposition  of  Turkey, 
which  had  good  reason  for  wishing  things  to  re- 
main as  they  were. 

The  Bulgarians,  only,  from  among  our  stu- 
dents, come  to  us  with  anything  like  a  twentieth 
century  trend  of  thought.  They  have  been  mak- 
ing rapid  strides  in  education  since  their  freedom 
from  Turkey  in  1878,  and  have  absolutely  wiped 
out  the  ascendency  of  the  Church.  They  are  a 
very  enterprising  and  up  to  date  people — Yan- 
kees of  the  Near  East,  as  they  have  sometimes 
been  called. 

It  would  be  difficult  for  one  brought  up  in  the 

[173] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

midst  of  our  modern  civilization  to  realize  the 
paucity  of  real  knowledge  at  the  disposal  of  the 
Orientals  from  books  in  their  own  languages. 
The  whole  scientific  literature  of  Turkey  con- 
sists mostly  of  books  drawn  from  the  Arab  learn- 
ing of  the  period  when  Mohammedanism  was  at 
its  height,  while  in  the  native  Armenian  lan- 
guage there  exist  hardly  any  books  of  scientific 
value;  and  only  a  few  epoch-making  scientific 
works  of  Europe  and  America  have  yet  been 
translated  into  Bulgarian  or  Greek. 

Only  by  learning  one  or  more  of  the  languages 
of  cultured  Europe — English  or  French  or  Ger- 
man— does  the  Oriental  gain  access  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  present  day.  It  is  indeed  a  Revival 
of  Learning — a  Renaissance — for  them,  and 
they  feel  the  same  excitement,  the  same  intellec- 
tual stimulus  that  the  Italians  felt  at  the  discov- 
ery of  the  Greek  Learning  and  the  resulting 
freedom  from  the  thrall  of  the  Church.  Now,  as 
then,  the  New  Learning  means  escape  from  the 
Dark  Ages  in  which  these  Orientals  have  been 
living. 

You  can  hardly  keep  them  from  books.  They 
devour  the  English  authors,  the  German  philos- 

[174] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

ophers,  the  French  religious  writers,  trying  in  a 
few  years  to  absorb  the  intellectual  progress  of 
the  past  century. 

In  their  studies,  too,  they  show  the  same  ea- 
gerness, especially  being  attracted  to  sociology, 
economics,  history  and  psychology.  When  we 
remember  that  within  fifty  years  or  less  have 
arisen  all  the  social  sciences  which  are  proving  so 
important  in  our  modern  life;  that  the  study  of 
biology,  psychology  and  religion  have  been  al- 
most re-created  by  the  theory  of  evolution  intro- 
duced into  the  world  within  this  same  fifty  years ; 
that  movements  which  threaten  to  disrupt  both 
state  and  church  and  family — such  as  socialism, 
anarchism,  new  thought,  mental  healing,  investi- 
gation of  the  occult,  the  growing  theorizing 
about  marriage — have  arisen  even  later  than 
fifty  years  ago;  and  that  none  or  few  of  the 
works  on  these  subjects  exist  in  the  Turkish, 
Greejk,  Armenian  or  Bulgarian  language — then 
we  can  realize  the  extraordinary  expansion  of 
thought  wrought  in  the  minds  of  students,  who, 
by  acquiring  the  English  language,  suddenly  fall 
heirs  to  modern  learning  and  are  brought  face  to 
face  with  its  attendant  problems. 

[175] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

How  eagerly  my  students,  of  all  nationalities, 
used  to  discuss  problems  of  socialism  and  of 
religion!  How  excited  they  were  at  their  first 
discovery  of  the  psychic  world  which  has  almost 
imperceptibly  invaded  our  modern  life !  That  no 
reasonable  man,  no  matter  how  matter-of-fact 
he  may  be,  can  deny  the  phenomena  of  hypno- 
tism, of  telepathy,  of  healing  by  suggestion,  and 
that  further  psychic  powers  are  crowding  for 
admission  into  our  daily,  recognized  life — are 
extremely  interesting  facts  to  the  Oriental  boy. 

It  is  a  new  world  to  him. 

* 

A  second  cause  of  earnest  intellectual  work 
among  the  students  already  spoken  of  is  their 
early  maturity  of  thought. 

No  race,  perhaps,  preserves  its  youth  so  long 
as  the  Anglo-Saxon,  and  the  slow  ripening  of  its 
powers  gives  a  vigor  and  solidity  to  the  mature 
man  which  is  one  of  the  causes  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  supremacy.  Yet  to  a  teacher,  the  child- 
ishness of  thought  on  the  part  of  his  pupils  is 
often  wearisome,  and  so  it  is  refreshing  and  in- 
spiring to  deal  with  pupils  such  as  those  at 
Robert  College,  who  begin  to  think  deeply  at 

[176] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

fourteen  and  are  capable  of  the  most  intricate 
philosophical  discussions  from  the  age  of  sixteen 
on. 

The  acuteness  and  logical  clarity  of  the  Greek 
mind  is  amazing.  Mere  boys  can  discuss  matters 
of  religion  and  philosophy  with  an  insight  and 
perception  which  would  put  to  shame  many  a 
mature  American.  They  are  very  fond  of  such 
discussions,  and  enjoy  nothing  more  than  visit- 
ing the  teachers  and  talking  over  questions  of 
art,  of  philosophy,  of  religion,  and  of  life  in  gen- 
eral. I  could  have  filled  in  all  my  time  outside  of 
class  in  this  way,  if  I  had  had  the  leisure  and  the 
energy. 

Even  in  walks  which  I  took  with  the  students, 
serious  topics  of  discussion  would  arise,  and  I 
enjoyed  walking  up  and  down  the  shady  ter- 
race of  our  College,  with  that  unequaled  and 
magnificent  view  of  the  Bosphorus  spread  out 
below  me,  conversing  with  some  thoughtful  and 
congenial  student.  We  used  to  call  it  in  fun  the 
Peripatetic  School  of  Philosophy.  Plato  must 
have  had  a  delightful  time! 

I  remember  one  student,  a  Greek,  who  came 
shyly  to  my  room,  and,  after  a  desultory  chat, 

[177] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

began  asking  me  questions  about  religion.  I  was 
amazed  at  the  depth  and  penetration  of  his  ques- 
tions, for  he  was  only  sixteen.  It  seems  he  had 
been  reading  some  French  works  on  religion,  and 
was  full  of  ideas.  I  have  seldom  known  a  more 
clearly  logical  mind  than  his,  and  it  was  a  de- 
light to  talk  with  him  as  he  sat  there,  with  his 
face,  of  a  most  graceful  Grecian  type,  lit  up  with 
the  enthusiasm  of  high  thought. 

It  was  interesting  to  discover  what  currents  of 
thought  were  strongest  among  the  boys.  There 
were  various  trends,  differing,  peculiarly  enough, 
according  to  the  nationality  of  the  student.  The 
Armenians  are  inclined  by  temperament  and  his- 
tory towards  pessimism,  but  they  can  hardly  be 
blamed  for  this,  as  their  place  in  the  world  for 
the  past  two  thousand  years  has  been  one  of  sub- 
jection and  suffering.  They  like  to  read  Scho- 
penhauer, and  come  to  the  conclusion  that  life  is 
not  worth  whilel 

For  a  time,  suicide  gained  great  popularity 
among  our  senior  class — not  in  practice,  fortu- 
nately, but  in  theory.  For  some  months  the  dis- 
cussion went  on  at  table  and  in  dormitory  as  to 
the  value  of  existence ;  and  the  intellectual  lead- 

[178] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

ers  having  decided  that  existence  was  a  curse, 
most  of  the  class  accepted  this  doctrine  and  went 
about  with  such  woebegone  faces  that  the  teach- 
ers, and  students  of  the  other  classes  had  to  laugh 
at  them! 

Yet  if  you  could  listen  to  the  life  history  of 
some  of  the  Armenians  whose  families  had 
passed  through  the  massacres,  you  would  not  be 
inclined  to  ridicule  them. 

The  Bulgarians  are  more  hopeful,  for  their 
race  is  free  and  is  rapidly  progressing.  They 
show  a  strong  tendency  toward  a  study  of  spirit- 
ualism and  hypnotism.  They  seem  to  be  psy- 
chically sensitive,  and  the  phenomena  of  these 
subjects  have  a  great  fascination  for  them.  The 
Greeks  also  are  interested  in  these  branches,  as 
well  as  in  art,  to  which  they  are  very  sensitive. 

The  students  are  great  devotees  of  Tolstoy, 
which  would  make  one  inclined  to  take  exception 
to  Roosevelt's  opinion,  as  stated  in  published  ar- 
ticles, that  his  influence  is  very  small.  In  East- 
ern Europe,  at  least,  Tolstoy's  readers  look  upon 
him  with  almost  worship,  and  in  any  talk  to  our 
boys,  a  reference  to  him  was  sure  to  call  forth 
a  quick  response. 

[179] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

It  is  difficult  for  one  in  America,  who  enjoys 
the  sheltered  life  of  the  twentieth  century  civili- 
zation, to  realize  the  problems  which  these  Orien- 
tal boys  have  to  face.  Life  in  the  East  is  far 
from  being  sheltered.  Many  a  boy  in  the  school 
had  some  near  relative,  perhaps  even  a  parent, 
who  was  killed  in  a  political  feud.  No  wonder 
that  they  think  deeply  at  an  early  age,  or  ques- 
tion the  meaning  of  things! 

One  of  the  students,  on  going  home  for  the 
Easter  vacation,  was  met  at  the  station  by  his 
father  and  ten  friends  all  armed  to  the  teeth. 
It  seems  that  the  life  of  his  father  had  been 
threatened  by  a  political  band,  and  for  two 
weeks  he  had  not  dared  to  leave  his  house,  or 
even  his  chamber,  while  armed  men,  his  rela- 
tives, guarded  the  house  day  and  night.  A 
life  fraught  with  such  dangers  brings  early 
maturity. 

Another  boy  told  me  the  story  of  his  life, 
which  might  form  a  plot  for  an  ^Bschylus.  It  was 
a  veritable  drama  in  itself.  At  the  age  of  sixteen 
he  was  confronted  with  the  realization  of  sin 
within  his  family,  which  he  felt  himself  called 
upon,  as  the  oldest  son,  to  avenge.  The  evil 

[180] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

weighed  upon  his  mind.  One  night  he  took  a 
long  knife  and  crept  into  his  father's  room — but 
his  father  awakened  too  soon,  and  he  crept  out. 
He  could  not  bring  himself  to  this  pitch  again, 
and  so  his  father  continued  to  live  and  to  sin,  and 
the  boy  continued  to  bear  the  burden  of  this  sin 
upon  his  mind  and  heart. 

We  had  some  anarchists  among  our  students, 
who  caused  us  difficulty  in  discipline  at  times. 
Like  the  Irish,  they  made  it  their  principle  to  be 
"agin  the  government"  and  they  felt  it  wrong 
to  have  to  obey  rules.  But  anarchy,  like  every- 
thing else,  must  be  judged  with  relation  to  its 
causes  and  environment.  I  think  if  I  lived  in 
Russia  I  should  be  an  anarchist,  too. 

The  American  teachers  who  come  to  the  col- 
lege with  ideas  of  what  discipline  ought  to  be  are 
surprised  and  mortified  by  the  failures  of  the 
students  to  obey.  The  East  is  very  different 
from  the  West  in  this  respect.  Strangely 
enough,  there  where  government  has  always  been 
an  absolute  despotism,  students  do  not  know 
what  it  is  to  obey,  while  in  America,  where  free- 
dom has  reached  its  extreme  development, 
school-teachers  are  autocrats,  ruling  with  an  ab- 

[181] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

solute  power  which  it  is  almost  impossible  to  ef- 
fect in  the  East. 

Among  the  races  of  the  Orient,  voluntary  or- 
ganization for  the  accomplishment  of  any  end, 
necessitating  absolute  loyalty  and  unquestioning 
obedience  to  the  person  who  is  put  at  the  head 
of  the  enterprise,  is  unknown.  The  Oriental  at- 
titude of  mind  is  one  of  constant  insubordination. 
This  is  the  greatest  fault  of  the  Greek  and  the 
Armenian.  They  do  not  know  how  to  obey. 
They  do  not  know  how  to  trust  a  leader  and  fol- 
low him  implicitly. 

Our  students  place  no  confidence  in  their  pro- 
fessors. It  is  almost  impossible  to  command 
them  to  do  anything.  Instead  of  obeying  they 
will  stop  to  argue  about  it.  Even  in  the  plan  of 
study  they  interfere  and  refuse  at  times  to  take 
up  certain  portions  of  the  work.  The  teachers, 
they  say,  are  paid  by  them  and  are  in  their  serv- 
ice. One  class  marched  out  from  an  examina- 
tion, refusing  to  take  it.  In  fact,  one  finds  he 
must  adopt  other  methods  of  teaching  than  those 
current  in  America. 

Someone  has  said,  "You  cannot  drive  the 
East,  but  you  can  lead  it."  This  is  true.  Orien- 

[182] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

tals  resent  offhand  treatment,  which  Americans 
will  put  up  with  in  their  superiors  if  they  have 
confidence  in  them.  Politeness  and  diplomacy 
are  ingrained  in  the  Orientals.  They  do  nothing 
abruptly.  Therefore  it  is  necessary  to  use  round- 
about methods  in  dealing  with  them.  After  the 
Turkish  Revolution  a  feeling  of  insubordina- 
tion made  the  rounds  of  all  the  schools  in  Turkey, 
both  missionary  and  national.  The  Galata  Serai 
became  entirely  demoralized.  In  the  missionary 
schools  the  students  went  on  strikes,  and  in  many 
cases  won  their  point.  It  was  the  infection  of 
liberty  which  was  in  the  air. 

Another  drawback  in  our  teaching  was  the 
superficial  character  of  the  work.  The  program 
is  so  heavy,  due  to  the  necessity  of  five  or  six  lan- 
guages being  learned,  that  there  is  very  little 
time  for  the  preparation  of  any  one  lesson.  Three 
quarters  of  an  hour  is  the  average  time  of  prep- 
aration, and  a  lesson  which  would  take  the  stu- 
dents one  and  one-half  hours  to  prepare  would 
call  forth  cries  of  protest.  They  do  not  know 
what  it  is  to  undertake  a  hard  mental  task  and 
push  it  through  regardless  of  time.  The  curric- 
ulum and  the  climate  are  against  them. 

[183] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Yet  when  our  students  enter  foreign  univer- 
sities they  do  excellent  work,  and  adapt  them- 
selves to  the  new  conditions  with  a  facility  that  is 
surprising. 

In  spite  of  drawbacks,  teaching  in  the  East  is 
very  inspiring.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  students ; 
the  feeling  that  one  is  able  to  bring  to  them  the 
gift  of  knowledge,  which  they  prize  above  all 
other  gifts ;  the  opportunities  quietly  to  influence 
the  thought  and  character  of  the  students — these 
things  constitute  an  incentive  and  reward  to  the 
teacher  greater  than  any  mere  money  can  bring. 
The  friendship  and  loyalty  of  these  Oriental 
boys,  who  are  so  quick  to  resent,  yet  so  ready  to 
forgive — full  of  distrust  and  yet  of  affection — 
is  worth  all  the  hardships  it  costs  to  win  them. 
In  bestowing  an  education  I  gained  one.  I  count 
my  years  at  Robert  College  as  the  most  delight- 
ful and  most  instructive  period  of  my  life. 


[184] 


ISLAM 


CHAPTER  XI 
ISLAM 

The  time  has  passed  when  Islam  can  be 
treated  with  contempt,  or  Mohammed  looked 
upon  as  a  charlatan.  A  religion  which  controls 
the  lives  of  nearly  two  hundred  million  people 
and  is  rapidly  spreading  commands  the  attention 
if  not  the  respect  of  the  civilized  world ;  and  in  the 
closer  relations — economic,  social,  and  political — 
which  are  bound  to  come  between  the  East  and 
the  West,  it  will  be  worth  while  to  have  an  ap- 
preciative understanding  of  this  world  religion. 

Carlyle  was  one  of  the  first  to  treat  Mo- 
hammed with  the  respect  he  deserves.  No 
charlatan  could  have  influenced  his  times  and 
posterity  as  this  prophet  of  the  desert  did,  and  the 
theory  that  he  was  a  trickster  is  untenable.  He 
had  a  great  message  to  deliver,  even  though  the 
preaching  of  it  meant  derison,  ostracism  and 
finally  persecution.  In  his  own  day  Mohammed 
met  the  charge  of  impostor,  and  branded  it  as  a 
lie  by  his  spiritual  power  and  the  fruits  of  his 

[187] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

life.  He  lived  in  utter  simplicity,  and  at  the 
time  of  his  death  hardly  had  even  sufficient  cloth- 
ing to  wear.  His  teaching  lifted  Arabia  from 
a  state  of  wild  and  gross  barbarism  to  a  high  civ- 
ilization. Those  who  criticise  Islam  for  its  de- 
fects should  examine  the  conditions  under  which 
it  arose.  Its  legalizing  of  polygamy  was  a  great 
advance  over  the  incestuous  sex  relations  of  the 
Arabs  of  his  day.  In  every  direction  his  religion 
established  law  and  order  superior  to  any  that 
had  before  existed  and  cemented  the  wild,  hostile 
tribes  into  a  powerful  nation. 

The  history  of  Islam  is  an  impressive  one. 
Within  one  century  from  the  death  of  its  founder 
it  had  spread  from  the  Indian  Ocean  to  the  At- 
lantic, including  in  its  sweep  all  the  Asiatic  races 
outside  of  China  and  India,  and  had  established 
itself  in  Europe,  where  it  threatened  the  very  ex- 
istence of  Christendom. 

Throughout  all  this  vast  Islamic  Empire  the 
sense  of  religious  brotherhood  was  so  strong  that 
peace  prevailed  where  there  had  been  only  con- 
stant warfare.  Merchants  could  travel  from 
India  to  Spain  without  fear.  To  fight  a  brother 
Moslem  was  a  sacrilege. 

[188] 


TURKISH     Mullah     or     priest— as 
kindly  a  face  as  one  would  see  in  any 
country. 


THE    REAL    TURK 

In  this  conglomeration  of  mixed  races  made 
homogeneous  by  a  common  religion,  civilization 
became  possible.  The  arts  and  sciences  flour- 
ished, and  centers  of  learning  were  established; 
the  Greek  learning  was  revived,  and  passed  on  to 
Europe  by  the  Arabs. 

The  magnitude  of  the  astounding  debt  which 
European  civilization  owes  to  the  Arabs  is  well 
described  in  these  words,  which  we  quote  directly 
from  Seignobos: 

"Let  one  compare  the  two  civilizations  which 
in  the  Eleventh  Century  divided  the  Ancient 
World:  in  the  West  miserable  little  cities,  peas- 
ants' huts  and  great  fortresses — a  country  al- 
ways troubled  by  war,  where  one  could  not  travel 
ten  leagues  without  running  the  risk  of  being 
robbed;  and  the  Orient,  Constantinople,  Cairo, 
Damascus,  Bagdad,  all  the  cities  of  the  'Arabian 
Nights',  with  their  marble  palaces,  their  work- 
shops, their  schools,  their  bazaars,  their  gardens 
which  extended  over  several  leagues — a  country 
well-watered  and  covered  with  villages  and  with 
the  incessant  movement  of  merchants,  who  trav- 
elled in  peace  from  Spain  to  Persia.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  the  Mussulman  and  Byzantine  worlds 

[189] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

were  richer,  better  policed,  better  lighted  than 
the  Western  World.  In  the  Eleventh  Century 
these  two  worlds  began  to  become  acquainted; 
the  barbarous  Christians  came  in  contact  with 
the  civilized  Mussulmans  in  two  ways — by  war 
and  by  commerce. 

"By  contact  with  the  Orientals  the  Occidentals 
became  civilized.  It  is  often  very  difficult  to  tell 
precisely  by  what  route  an  invention  of  the 
Orient  has  penetrated  to  us — whether  it  has  come 
to  us  through  the  Crusaders,  through  the  Italian 
merchants,  through  the  Saracens  of  Sicily  or  the 
Moors  of  Spain.  But  we  can  draw  up  a  list  of 
what  we  owe  the  Arabs,  and  that  list  is  a  long 
one. 

"1st.  From  the  Arabs  came  buckwheat,  aspar- 
agus, hemp,  linen,  mulberries,  saffron,  rice, 
dates,  lemons,  oranges;  even  coffee,  cotton,  and 
cane  sugar,  which  have  become  the  principle 
crops  of  America. 

"2nd.  Most  of  our  luxuries — damask  cloth, 
morocco  leather,  silk  and  gold  stuffs  embroidered 
with  silver  and  gold,  muslin,  gauze,  taffeta,  vel- 
vets (perfected  later  in  Italy) — glass,  paper, 
sugar,  sweetmeats  and  syrups. 

[190] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

"3rd.  The  beginning  of  most  of  our  sciences — 
algebra,  trigonometry,  chemistry,  Arabian  nu- 
merals which  the  Arabs  had  borrowed  from  the 
Hindus  and  which  have  rendered  the  most  diffi- 
cult calculations  easy. 

"The  Arabs  had  collected  and  condensed  all 
the  inventions  and  all  the  knowledge  of  the  an- 
cient worlds  of  the  Orient — Greece,  Persia, 
India,  even  China:  it  is  they  who  have 
transmitted  them  to  us.  Through  them  the 
western  world  which  had  become  barbarous 
entered  again  into  civilization.  If  our  ideas 
and  our  arts  are  connected  with  antiquity, 
all  the  inventions  which  make  life  easy 
and  agreeable  have  come  to  us  through  the 
Arabs."* 

In  the  face  of  such  a  debt,  all  that  we  can  do 
in  spreading  education  and  Western  progress 
among  the  Mohammedan  peoples  is  but  a  just 
return  for  their  service  in  the  past.  Once  they 
were  the  enlightened  race  and  we  were  in  dark- 
ness. Now  we  have  far  outstripped  them,  by 
the  aid  of  modern  science,  and  they  are  striving 
to  acquire  the  Western  civilization.  There  is  no 

*  Ch.  Seignobos:  Histoire  de  la  Civilization  au  Moyen-Age  6t 
dans  leg  Temps  Modernes. 

[191] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

reason  to  suppose  they  cannot  succeed  in  this, 
and  finally  take  their  place  in  the  world  as  our 
peers. 

What  was  the  spell  which  Islam  cast  over  the 
East,  to  make  it  captive?  In  its  very  simplicity 
lay  its  power :  One  God,  Mohammed  his  prophet, 
the  Koran  descending  from  on  high  like  the 
Mosaic  decalogue,  the  brotherhood  of  man,  sub- 
mission to  God  (Islam  means  "submission")  and 
a  few  definite  practices  such  as  prayer,  pilgrim- 
age, almsgiving,  which  could  appeal  to  the 
concrete,  childlike  mind;  no  metaphysical 
speculations,  no  mysteries  of  incarnation  and 
transubstantiation,  no  subtleties  of  flic  Greek 
mind  such  as  had  dominated  Christianity.  That 
explains  why  Islam  spread  where  Christianity 
had  never  succeeded — and  why  it  is  spreading 
today  in  Africa  in  the  face  of  Christianity. 

Just  as  the  characteristic  note  of  Buddhism  is 
the  absence  of  desire,  and  of  Christianity  love  of 
God  and  of  man,  so  the  characteristic  note  of 
Islam  is  submission  to  God — a  submission  which 
goes  to  the  extreme  of  fatalism.  The  average 
Mohammedan  believes  that  all  his  life  is  written 

[192] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

down  beforehand  in  his  book  of  destiny  in  heaven 
—hence  he  is  powerless  to  change  his  life  one 
iota. 

In  this  lies  at  once  the  weakness  and  the 
strength  of  the  East.  Lethargy  and  inertia  hold 
it  back  from  progress;  yet  the  sublime  faith  in 
Allah  smooths  the  path  of  life,  meeting  all  dis- 
appointments or  calamities  with  a  calm  folding 
of  the  hands  and  complete  submission. 

The  forms  of  Islam  are  simple,  and  yet  rigor- 
ous. There  are  five  duties  which  are  obligatory 
—prayer,  fasting,  almsgiving,  pilgrimage  and 
ablutions.  Prayer  is  supposed  to  be  said  five 
times  a  day — at  dawn,  noon,  mid-afternoon,  sun- 
set, and  during  the  night — and  consists  of  the 
repetition  of  formulas,  with  a  certain  number  of 
kneelings  and  prostrations.  If  possible  every 
Mohammedan  goes  for  one  of  these  prayers, 
preferably  that  at  noon,  to  a  mosque,  where  he 
performs  the  ceremony  in  concert  with  other 
worshippers. 

Ablution  of  the  hands,  face,  and  feet  must  be 
observed  before  each  prayer,  if  possible,  and  for 
this  purpose  there  are  faucets  of  running  water 
at  every  mosque,  either  in  front  or  in  the  court, 

[193] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

where  "the  faithful"  may  bathe.  Mohammedans 
never  wash  in  still  water  in  a  basin,  as  we  do, 
but  always  in  running  water. 

For  the  purpose  of  calling  the  faithful  to 
prayers  the  muezzins  climb  to  the  top  of  the 
mosque-minarets  five  times  a  day  and  cry  out 
toward  each  point  of  the  compass  the  call  to 
prayer.  They  have  wonderfully  trained  voices, 
which  reach  over  an  entire  village.  It  is  a  beau- 
tiful thing  to  hear  at  sunset  the  liquid  notes 
floating  down  from  above,  and  to  realize  that 
everywhere  at  this  hour  muezzins  are  calling  and 
faithful  Mohammedans  are  kneeling  in  prayer. 
For  a  while  we  had  in  Bebek  the  favorite  muezzin 
of  the  Khedive  of  Egypt,  who  had  a  tenor  voice 
of  marvelous  quality,  and  we  often  strolled  by  the 
mosque  at  sunset  to  hear  his  call. 

As  all  over  the  world  the  external  observances 
of  religion  are  waning,  so  in  Islam.  Wherever 
European  civilization  has  come  in  contact  with 
Mohammedans,  it  has  weakened  their  faith.  In 
Constantinople  very  few  make  their  prayers  in 
public — only  once  in  a  while  have  I  seen  soldiers 
or  priests  praying  on  the  boats;  and  sometimes 
the  Turkish  merchants  close  their  shops  at  noon, 

[194] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

but  this  is  rare.  The  average  cultured  Moham- 
medan cares  very  little  now  about  the  externals 
of  his  religion.  A  friend  told  me  how  he  had 
begun  at  adolescence  to  doubt  and  to  lose  in- 
terest in  these  duties  of  Islam:  the  public  prayer 
and  fast  of  Ramazan  he  failed  to  observe,  but  he 
kept  his  heresy  from  his  parents,  who  were  strict 
Mohammedans.  The  same  wave  of  irreligion 
which  is  emptying  our  churches  is  decimating  the 
ranks  of  "the  faithful."  Yet  I  do  not  believe  that 
a  Mohammedan,  no  matter  how  neglectful  of  re- 
ligion he  becomes,  is  ever  crassly  materialistic. 
The  Oriental  seldom  goes  to  the  extreme  of  a 
positive  atheism. 

On  Friday — the  Mohammedan  Sabbath — a 
service  is  held  in  the  mosque  at  noon,  consisting 
of  prayers  followed  by  a  sermon  from  the 
mullah,  or  priest.  I  had  the  good  fortune  to 
witness  one  of  these  services  (it  would  have  been 
impossible  before  the  Revolution,  and  would  be 
impossible  today  in  any  Mohammedan  city  other 
than  Constantinople).  At  twelve  o'clock  the 
mullahs  began  to  intone  the  Koran  antiphonally 
from  different  parts  of  the  mosque,  and  for  half 
an  hour  this  was  continued,  while  "the  faithful" 

[196] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

came  into  the  mosque  one  by  one,  removing  their 
shoes  at  the  door,  and  squatting  on  the  floor  in 
Oriental  fashion.  At  12:30  all  arose,  faced 
Mecca  and  went  through  their  prayers,  but  not  in 
unison.  Then  they  sat  down,  and  there  was  more 
antiphonal  chanting.  Finally  the  imam,  or  head 
priest,  appeared  in  a  green  robe  and  mounted 
the  pulpit,  while  the  chanting  rose  to  a  louder 
pitch.  When  he  had  taken  his  position  he  too 
began  to  chant,  the  mullahs  sometimes  replying, 
and  continued  for  half  an  hour;  then  he  came 
down  and  led  prayers,  which  were  repeated  by 
the  congregation  twice  in  unison.  At  the  end, 
just  before  going  out,  each  man  turned  his  head 
once  to  the  right  and  once  to  the  left — to  salute 
his  two  guardian  angels,  who  protect  him  on  each 
side. 

The  service  was  very  impressive  to  me,  and 
also  to  my  friend,  who  was  in  a  mosque  for  the 
first  time.  We  felt  the  earnestness  of  it  all — the 
zeal  which  made  each  participant  oblivious  of  all 
that  was  going  on  around  him.  The  voices  of 
the  mullahs  resound  beautifully  through  the 
mosque,  whose  bare  walls  enhance  the  purity  of 
their  tones.  The  music  of  their  intoning  under 

[196] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

such  circumstances  is  more  appealing  than  our 
church  music.  The  most  dominant  note  of  such 
a  service  is  its  simplicity  and  democracy.  Each 
one  feels  himself  a  part  of  his  great  religion — a 
child  of  God  and  a  brother  to  his  fellow  Moham- 
medan. Rich  and  poor  kneel  together — patched 
breeches  by  the  side  of  fur  coat — hamal  and  mer- 
chant one  before  God. 

Sometimes  the  imam  preaches  a  sermon  dur- 
ing the  Friday  service.  The  ordinary  Turk  gets 
his  ideas  of  his  religion  partly  through  this  and 
partly  from  a  Mohammedan  catechism  which  he 
is  taught  in  his  boyhood,  for  he  cannot  read  the 
Koran  himself  nor  understand  it  when  intoned 
by  the  mullahs  from  the  Arabic :  hence  the  power 
of  the  Mohammedan  clergy. 

Women  do  not  have  to  go  to  mosque  on 
Friday,  or  observe  the  other  forms  of  their  re- 
ligion. There  is  no  statement  anywhere  in  the 
Koran  that  women  have  no  souls,  but  they  are 
treated  as  if  they  had  none.  They  could  not 
profit  by  these  forms;  they  are  not  important 
enough  to  God  to  be  considered  in  these  matters. 
It  is  enough  if  they  accept  the  faith — God  and 
their  husbands  will  see  that  they  get  safely  to 

[197] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Paradise.  If  they  wish  to  attend  mosque  they 
must  go  into  the  galleries,  or  occupy  the  sides, 
which  are  screened  in  by  wooden  lattices.  The 
mosque  is  for  men ;  Islam  is  a  masculine  religion 
(perhaps  that  accounts  for  its  steady  earnestness 
and  power).  It  offers  a  strong  contrast  to  our 
church,  with  its  growing  effeminacy. 

The  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  is  one  of  the  reli- 
gious duties  which  is  considered  most  sacred. 
Those  who  cannot  afford  this  journey  make  pil- 
grimages to  other  sacred  places  or  to  tombs  of 
local  saints,  but  it  is  the  dream  of  every  Mussul- 
man to  visit  Mecca  before  he  dies,  since,  if  he  can 
accomplish  it,  he  returns  to  his  community  a 
noted  man — wears  a  white  turban  around  his 
fez,  and  has  the  title  of  "Hadji" 

I  have  often  seen  pilgrims  on  the  boats  going 
to  Mecca,  and  I  have  travelled  with  them.  They 
live  very  simply.  Everything  in  the  way  of 
bedding,  food,  and  cooking  utensils  they  take 
with  them.  When  they  get  on  the  ship  they  se- 
cure a  clear  place  on  the  deck,  spread  their 
baggage  about  so  as  to  fence  this  space  in,  cover 
the  bare  boards  with  textiles  and  rugs,  and  are 
soon  as  cozy  as  if  in  their  own  homes.  They 

[198] 


GROUP  of  Turks  travelling  deck 
passage — on  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca. 
The  one  on  the  right  has  an  extremely  typi- 
cal Turkish  face. 


queer     deck    passengers,     Turks 
from   Turkistan   travelling   by   deck  on 
their  pilgrimage  to  Mecca. 


THE    REAL    TURK 

cook  their  meals  over  spirit  lamps  or  charcoal 
stoves.  Overhead  is  spread  an  awning,  which 
shades  them  by  day  and  keeps  off  the  dew  at 
night.  It  is  delightful  if  the  weather  is  good  and 
one  is  well  supplied  with  food  and  bedding.  The 
price  of  deck  passage  is  about  one-fifth  of  the 
second  class  fare.  Thousands  travel  this  way 
yearly,  coming  from  the  farthest  confines  of 
Turkestan  by  way  of  Bartoum  and  the  Black 
Sea  through  Constantinople  to  Palestine, 
whence  they  proceed  by  caravan  to  Mecca. 
Other  thousands  go  overland. 

Islam  is  by  its  theology  more  or  less  tolerant. 
Mohammed  did  not  claim  to  be  divine,  to  be  an 
Incarnation  or  the  unique  Son  of  God.  He  says 
over  and  over  in  the  Koran — "I  am  not  divine, 
I  am  a  man,  as  you  are."  His  only  claim  was 
to  be  the  prophet  of  God.  He  urges  tolerance 
upon  his  followers,  and  in  one  verse  tells  them 
to  help  the  Christians  if  they  are  building  a 
church  and  need  aid. 

Islam  looks  with  more  or  less  favor  upon  what 
it  calls  the  "religions  with  a  book" — that  is, 
Christianity  and  Judaism — which  possess  the 
Old  Testament  jointly  with  Islam.  Of  poly- 

[199] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

theism  and  idolatry  it  is  not  tolerant — to  them  it 
can,  by  its  theology,  make  no  concessions — for 
the  chief  burden  of  Mohammedan's  teaching  was 
against  idolatry.  Peculiarly  enough,  it  is  this 
very  point  which  has  estranged  Islam  from  Chris- 
tianity. The  crude  Trinitarianism  of  the  Eastern 
Christian  churches  (Greek,  Armenian,  Coptic, 
Nestorian)  appeared  to  Mohammed  as  a  form  of 
polytheism — three  gods  instead  of  one — and  the 
image  worship  and  extreme  formalism  of  their 
ritual  looked  like  idolatry.  Indeed,  there  is  very 
little  difference  between  the  kissing  of  the 
Virgin's  eichon  by  Christians  and  the  worship  of 
images  by  polytheists.  If  there  is  one  thing  that 
Moslem  theology  is  strict  about,  it  is  the  idea  of 
the  One  God,  and  among  orthodox  Mohamme- 
dans a  very  pure  form  of  monotheism  prevails. 

Mohammedans  have  necessarily  formed  their 
idea  of  Christianity  from  the  sects  they  have  been 
acquainted  with  in  the  East,  and  are  surprised 
to  find  there  are  Christians  who  are  not  Trini- 
tarians. There  is  really  a  very  small  barrier  be- 
tween a  liberal  Mohammedan  and  a  liberal 
Christian.  The  Mohammedans  all  accept  Christ 
as  a  divine  teacher,  a  prophet  sent  by  God,  and 

[200] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

his  title  in  Mohammedan  writings  is  "The  Spirit 
of  God."  The  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament 
they  of  course  share  with  Christianity,  since  their 
religion  is  founded  on  that  book  quite  as  much  as 
Christianity  is.  On  the  other  hand,  liberal 
Christians  are  ready  to  accept  Mohammed  as  a 
prophet.  There  are  even  books  of  worship  com- 
piled from  the  writings  of  Christ,  Mohammed, 
Buddha,  and  Confucius  which  are  used  by  Chris- 
tian clergy. 

A  sympathetic  and  fraternal  relation  between 
progressive  Christian,  Jewish  and  Mohammedan 
thinkers  is  not  far  away.  There  are  many  things 
which  would  shut  out  an  orthodox  Mohammedan 
from  such  a  brotherhood — his  practice  of  polyg- 
amy, for  example,  and  his  belief  (how  far 
wrong?)  that  much  of  our  New  Testament,  be- 
ing falsified  by  St.  Paul,  does  not  represent  the 
teachings  of  Christ.  His  belief  that  Mohamme- 
danism is  the  final  religion,  destined  to  supplant 
Christianity,  would  cause  a  good  orthodox  Chris- 
tian and  a  good  orthodox  Mohammedan  to  argue 
for  hours  and  never  make  a  dent  in  each  other's 
superb  faith  in  the  finality  of  his  own  religion. 

Mohammedans  are  becoming  progressive,  just 
[201] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

as  Christians  and  Jews  are.  The  cultured  Mo- 
hammedan of  today  no  longer  practices  or  ad- 
mires polygamy.  He  is  not  dogmatic.  He  is 
ready  and  willing  to  study  the  Christian's  Bible 
and  he  admires  the  words  of  Christ  in  our  New 
Testament.  He  cannot  accept  the  unique  divin- 
ity of  Christ,  but  neither  can  many  Christians. 
It  must  not  be  thought,  however,  that  he  is  open 
to  conversion.  He  is  no  more  likely  to  become 
a  Christian  because  he  is  a  progressive  Moham- 
medan than  a  Christian  is  likely  to  be  converted 
to  Mohammedanism.  In  other  words,  he  is  loyal 
to  the  religion  of  his  fathers,  although  open  to 
truth  from  whatever  source. 

The  missionaries  have  mistakenly  thought  that 
the  Revolution  would  open  the  Turks  to  con- 
version. It  has  not  done  so  and  will  not — loyalty 
and  patriotism  are  factors  which  will  always 
stand  in  the  way.  The  New  Turkey  has  meant 
rather  a  reform  of  Islam;  and  the  result  of  the 
awakening  of  Turkey,  Persia,  and  Mohamme- 
dan India  is  a  Pan-Islamic  movement  which  can 
offer  no  encouragement  to  Christian  proselyting. 

The  Revolution,  however,  did  open  the  way 
for  a  closer  and  kinder  feeling  between  Christian 

[202] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

and  Moslem,  and  awakened,  or  made  apparent, 
a  great  desire  on  the  part  of  educated  Moslems 
to  know  about  the  Christian  religion.  The  stu- 
dents in  the  University  of  Constantinople  pe- 
titioned to  have  comparative  religion  included  in 
the  curriculum.  Several  mission  centers  opened 
meetings  for  Mohammedans  in  which  talks  were 
given  in  Turkish  on  the  teachings  of  Christ,  and 
one  mission,  which  was  Quaker  and  very  broad, 
had  great  success  in  this  line.  Talks  on  Chris- 
tianity were  attended  by  scores  of  Mohammedan 
divinity  students,  who  betrayed  great  interest  in 
discussing  the  Christian  theology.  One  of  the 
leaders  of  the  Salvation  Army  gave  a  speech 
which  won  admiration,  and  he  himself  carried 
away  a  great  respect  for  the  Turks  and  for  their 
religion. 

A  movement  is  on  foot  to  establish  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  among  the  Turks,  as  it  has  been 
spread  in  China  and  Japan,  but  it  can  have  little 
success  if  attended  with  a  narrow  dogmatism. 
The  name  "Christian"  will  be  somewhat  against 
it,  just  as  we  should  rebel  against  a  "Young 
Men's  Mohammedan  Association"  which  should 
invite  membership  among  the  young  men  in  this 

[203] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

country.  Yet  the  aim  is  good,  since  it  is  for  fra- 
ternity and  service,  and  if  its  leaders  have  broad 
enough  ideals,  and  use  wise  and  tolerant  methods 
in  their  work,  it  will  surely  be  of  great  service. 
The  Turks  are  more  tolerant  in  religious  matters 
than  the  Arabs  or  the  Persians. 

I  have  a  Turkish  friend  who  is  as  good  a  Chris- 
tian as  any  I  know — yet  he  is  also  a  good  Mo- 
hammedan, loyal  to  his  religion,  and  angered  by 
foolish  attempts  to  detach  him  from  his  own 
faith.  I  quote  from  a  letter  of  his  a  little  episode 
which  occurred  between  him  and  an  earnest 
Christian  young  man  who  caught  him  one  day 
and  began  a  religious  discussion.  "To  start  with 
he  told  me  that  he  never  believed  in  attacking 
other  peoples'  religions.  He  said  he  had  a  great 
respect  for  the  great  religions  of  the  world. 
Then  little  by  little  he  tried  to  tell  me  and  con- 
vince me  that  Christianity  was  far  superior.  To 
sum  up  the  whole  conversation,  he  told  me  a 
story:  'A  Christian  (Chinese)  fell  into  a  well. 
He  wept  and  prayed  for  deliverance.  Confucius 
appeared  at  the  mouth  of  the  well  and  said — "If 
you  had  followed  my  teachings  you  would  not 
have  fallen  into  the  well" — and  left.  After  a 

[204] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

while  Buddha  appeared.  He  looked  down  and 
said — "Do  not  cry  and  weep — lose  yourself  in 
blissful  Nirvana  and  you  will  be  saved."  I  was 
getting  nervous.  I  said  to  myself  'Now  Mo- 
hammed will  come  and  take  a  big  stone  and 
crush  the  head  of  the  poor  Chinaman.'  But  for 
some  reason  or  other  he  did  not  appear.  'Last 
of  all  Christ  appeared.  He  came  down  the  well 
and  put  his  arm  round  this  dying  Chinaman  and 
pulled  him  out.' — Of  course  I  asked  for  a  bap- 
tism immediately!  And  he  had  said  he  never  at- 
tacked other  religions. 

"They  think  now  that  the  country  has  a  con- 
stitutional government — therefore  more  liberty 
— they  can  come  over  here  and  convert  people 
right  and  left.  I  was  invited  to  attend  a  meeting 

at  X 's.  We  were  to  discuss  the  question 

'How  to  help  the  Students  of  the  Ottoman  Uni- 
versity.' They  never  thought  that  the  name 
under  which  they  were  working  is  enough  to 
prejudice  the  Mohammedans  over  here — 'Stu- 
dents' Christian  Federation.'  Of  course  I  did 
not  go.  Strange,  very  strange,  they  do  not  seem 
to  understand  the  world." 

This  same  man  was  present  once  at  a  service 

[205] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

in  which  a  travelling  missionary  spent  his  whole 
time  and  energy  vilifying  Mohammedanism.  At 
the  end  of  the  service  he  was  introduced  to  my 
friend,  and  he  turned  upon  him  savagely  and 
said, — "Don't  you  know  that  Mohammedanism 
is  an  invention  of  the  devil,  and  that  your  soul  is 
in  danger?"  What  kind  of  impression  would 
such  a  method  produce  upon  cultured  Moham- 
medans, men  with  trained  minds  and  world- wide 
in  their  outlook?  Fortunately  this  missionary 
is  not  at  all  representative. 

The  cultured  Turk,  like  the  cultured  Chris- 
tian, is  really  an  eclectic.  He  gleans  truth  from 
whatever  source  he  may — and  while  in  loyalty 
he  calls  himself  a  Mohammedan,  he  is  not  a  be- 
liever in  infallibility  and  does  not  accept  all  that 
Mohammed  taught,  nor  think  his  religion  is 
above  reform.  He  is  a  gentleman  of  the  world, 
taking  his  sanctions  for  conduct  from  his  social 
environment  rather  than  from  the  tenets  of 
Islam.  In  other  words,  he  has  outgrown  his  past 
religion — and  will  some  day  be  ready  for  a  more 
universal  truth. 


[206] 


ISLAM  AND  THE  INNER  LIFE 


CHAPTER  XII 
ISLAM  AND  THE  INNER  LIFE 

The  Mohammedan  world  is  divided  into  two 
sects  as  different  in  theory  and  as  antagonistic  in 
practice  as  the  Catholic  and  Protestant  divisions 
of  Christianity:  Sunni  and  Shiah.  The  Sunnis 
are  the  orthodox  Mohammedans  and  comprise 
the  Turks,  Egyptians  and  the  Arabs.  They  rec- 
ognize the  caliphate  succession,  of  which  the  sul- 
tan of  Turkey  is  the  representative,  and  look  to 
the  Sheik-ul-Islam  in  Constantinople  as  their 
spiritual  head.  Their  name  is  taken  from  the 
Sunna,  a  compilation  of  traditions  about  Mo- 
hammed which  they  accept  as  next  in  authority 
to  the  Koran. 

The  Shiites,  however,  reject  the  Sunna,  and 
will  acknowledge  neither  the  caliphate  nor  the 
Sheik-ul-Islam.  They  claim  that  Abu  Bekr, 
Omar,  and  Othman,  the  first  three  caliphs  of  the 
Sunnis,  were  impostors,  and  that  Ali,  who  was 
murdered  after  holding  the  caliphate  five  years, 
was  a  martyr  and  the  true  successor  of  Mo- 

[209] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

hammed.  This  succession  has  been  handed  down 
spiritually  through  twelve  imams,  the  last  of 
whom  was  the  Imam  Mohammed,  whose  second 
coming  will  inaugurate  the  millenium.  They 
look  to  their  leading  priests,  or  mujtahids,  for 
the  interpretation  of  the  Koran,  rather  than  to 
the  traditions  of  the  Sunna. 

It  is  a  very  interesting  religious  phenomenon 
to  note  that  this  sect  has  succeeded  in  turning 
Mohammedanism  into  a  religion  of  personal  de- 
votion— similar  to  the  evangelical  attitude  of 
Christianity  toward  Christ,  and  the  Bhakti  wor- 
ship of  Khrisna  in  India.  No  religion  could  give 
less  ground  for  worship  of  human  personality 
than  Islam,  which  is  as  pure  a  form  of  mono- 
theism as  Judaism,  yet  the  Shiah  followers  have 
succeeded  in  deifying  not  only  Mohammed  but 
also  Ali  his  son-in-law  and  Ali's  two  sons,  Hus- 
sein and  Hassan,  all  three  of  whom  were  killed 
in  battle  and  are  looked  upon  as  martyrs. 

Mohammed  has  become  almost  too  lofty  a 
personality  for  intimate  worship.  It  is  Ali  who 
is  the  popular  idol.  To  him  the  Shiites  turn  with 
an  intensity  of  devotion  which  is  paralleled  only 
in  the  Christian  mystics'  devotion  to  Christ.  The 

[210] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

celebration  in  mourning  of  the  death  of  All, 
Hussein,  and  Hassan,  which  occurs  yearly 
throughout  all  Shiah  communities,  I  shall 
describe  later. 

The  Shiah  sect  arose  in  Persia  after  that  coun- 
try had  fallen  under  Arab  conquest  and  turned 
Mohammedan.  If  the  Arabs  could  compel  their 
Persian  subjects  to  adopt  Mohammedanism, 
they  could  not  limit  the  Persian  ingenuity  from 
working  upon  this  religion  until  it  took  a  very 
different  form  from  that  Mohammed  intended 
it  to  have.  The  Persians  are  Aryans  and  per- 
haps the  most  subtle-minded  of  all  the  Eastern 
peoples  except  the  Hindus.  They  have  a  great 
genius  for  speculation  and  intellectual  creation. 
It  is  no  wonder  that  they  could  not  rest  until 
they  had  transformed  Islam,  which  is  essentially 
a  simple  faith,  into  a  metaphysical  religion  suited 
to  their  mental  habits. 

Out  of  this  tendency  arose  a  sect  which  holds 
the  flower  of  Mohammedan  mysticism — the 
Sufi  philosophers.  Their  teachings  show  strong 
Hindu  and  Greek  influence — Persia  having  been 
the  melting-pot  of  the  Eastern  and  Western 
philosophies  for  the  many  centuries  succeeding 

[211] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  conquests  of  Alexander.  More  directly, 
Sufiism  may  be  called  the  working  of  neo-Plato- 
nism  upon  Islam.  Its  basic  teaching  is  the  at- 
tainment to  union  with  the  Divine  by  means  of 
love,  the  entire  loss  of  self  in  a  love  for  God  so 
great  as  to  cause  absorption  into  his  unity. 
With  this  idea  leading,  Sufi  teachers  have  some- 
times announced  that  they  were  God.  This  does 
not  appear  blasphemous  when  we  understand 
what  was  meant:  they  considered  themselves  so 
at  one  with  the  Divine  that  they  no  longer  had 
any  will  of  their  own,  but  were  completely 
swayed  by  the  divine  will.  This  assertion  is 
similar  to  the  ideas  and  teachings  of  the  Perfec- 
tionists, and  of  the  followers  of  Molinos,  who 
claimed  they  were  sinless. 

The  beauty  of  the  Sufi  writings  lies  in  the 
fact  that  human  love  is  accepted  as  a  necessary 
step  leading  to  the  divine  love — and  this  figure 
runs  through  all  their  literature,  spiritualizing 
the  earthly  love,  and  bringing  the  divine  love 
within  reach  of  human  hearts.  No  more  beauti- 
ful love  poems  exist  in  any  language  than  those 
of  Hafiz,  Jalal-u-din,  and  Jami.  Their  expres- 
sion of  human  love  always  carries  a  hint  of  the 

[212] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

higher  love — and  the  higher  love  so  illumines  the 
longings  of  the  erring  mortal  heart  as  to  make 
its  utterances  sublime.  In  no  other  philosophy 
is  the  path  to  God  so  beautiful — "God,  the  True 
Beloved,  from  whom  all  that  is  beautiful  borrows 
its  beauty." 

Prof.  E.  G.  Brown  of  Oxford  University, 
one  of  the  leading  Orientalists,  writes  as  follows 
of  the  Sufi  teaching: 

"The  great  practical  aim  of  Sufiism  is  to  es- 
cape from  self,  and  until  this  lesson  is  learnt  no 
further  advance  can  be  made.  Worship,  love, 
devotion  to  any  one  or  anything  are  therefore 
good  in  so  far  as  they  conduce  to  self-renuncia- 
tion and  self-forgetfulness. — What,  then,  is  the 
pain  which  man  suffers,  and  how  can  he  escape 
therefrom?  For  only  by  finding  the  cause  of 
this  pain  can  he  hope  to  cure  it.  That  pain  is 
love  of  self — the  remedy  for  it  is  to  renounce 
self,  and  the  escape  is  into  God.  So  long  as  man 
is  held  captive  by  the  illusion  of  self  he  inevitably 
suffers  from  unsatisfied  desire  and  unquenchable 
craving.  Let  him  learn  the  truth  and  look  up- 
ward to  the  One,  not  around  at  the  many,  and 
least  of  all  downward  at  that  dark  shadow  of  un- 

[213] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

reality  which  he  takes  for  himself.  What  does 
he  then  behold?  The  Light  and  nothing  but  the 
Light;  Good  and  nothing  but  the  Good;  God 
and  nothing  but  God.  This  is  the  supreme  hap- 
piness, the  ultimate  goal,  the  beatific  vision :  this, 
in  a  word,  is  'Annihilation  in  God.'  The  drop  is 
merged  into  the  Ocean;  the  pilgrim  has  reached 
the  Shrine;  the  lover  is  united  to  the  Beloved. 
'He  has  ceased  to  exist?'  you  ask.  No,  he  is  one 
with  Being.  'Has  he  lost  the  friends  that  he 
loved  on  earth?'  No,  for  what  he  loved  in  them 
was  the  reflection  of  that  wherewith  he  is  now 
at  one.  All  that  he  ever  was  he  is — and  far  more 
than  that;  all  that  he  ever  had  he  has,  and 
infinitely  more." 

The  following  poem  from  Hafiz  illustrates  the 
sublimity  of  the  Sufi  ideal: 

I  died  from  the  mineral  and  became  a  plant; 

I  died  from  the  plant  and  re-appeared  in  an  animal; 

I  died  from  the  animal  and  became  a  man; 

Wherefore,  then,  should  I  fear?     When  did  I  grow  less 

by  dying? 

Next  time  I  shall  die  from  the  man 
That  I  may  grow  the  wings  of  the  angels. 
From  the  angels,  too,  I  must  seek  advance; 
"  All  things  shall  perish  save  His  Face."  * 

*  Quotation  from  the  Koran.    NOTE  :   It  is  easy  to  trace  in  this 
poem  the  influence  of  Hindu  philosophy. 

[214] 

ft 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Once  more  shall  I  wing  my  way  above  the  angels, 
I  shall  become  that  which  entereth  not  the  imagination. 
Then  let  me  become  naught,  naught;  for  the  harpstring 
Crieth  unto  me  "  Verily  unto  Him  do  we  return.'* 

In  Sufiism  must  be  found  the  origin  of  the 
many  dervish  orders  which  exist,  not  only  in 
Persia,  but  throughout  Islam.  Thus  while  Sufi- 
ism  is  essentially  an  outgrowth  of  Shiism,  it  has 
sent  its  tentacles  out  to  Sunni  countries  such  as 
Turkey  in  the  form  of  dervish  orders.  The  most 
prominent  of  these  in  Turkey  are  the  Mevlevis, 
or  "Dancing  Dervishes ;"  the  Rufais,  or  "Howl- 
ing Dervishes,"  whose  peculiar  ceremonies  I 
shall  describe  in  a  later  chapter;  and  the  Bek- 
tasliis,  orders  which  trace  their  beginning  to  some 
Sufi  saint  or  teacher.  They  have  both  active  and 
lay  members.  Unlike  Christian  monastic  orders, 
they  do  not  enforce  celibacy :  the  active  members 
live  in  a  sort  of  monastery  with  their  wives  and 
children,  if  they  have  any;  the  lay  members  may 
hold  their  connection  with  the  order  secret,  but 
their  lives  and  beliefs  are  profoundly  influenced 
by  it. 

The  general  attitude  of  the  dervish  orders  to- 
ward the  forms  of  their  religion  is  antinomian. 
They  are  mystics,  and,  as  such,  are  lifted  above 

[215] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  necessity  of  obedience  to  forms.  Hence  they 
go  through  prayers  only  when  publicity  obliges 
them  to.  They  do  not  observe  the  fast  of 
Ramazan,  nor  abstain  from  spirituous  liquors. 
They  are  far  from  being  dogmatic  Mohamme- 
dans and  are  very  tolerant  of  any  religion  or 
faith  which  points  the  way  to  God. 

The  Bektashis  are  the  most  numerous  and 
powerful  sect  of  dervishes  in  Turkey;  they  owe 
their  origin  to  Hadji  Bektashi,  a  saint  of  Konia, 
Turkey.  This  order  is  especially  strong  in  Al- 
bania, where  it  has  thousands  of  followers.  It 
was  so  powerful  around  Constantinople  that  one 
of  the  late  sultans  felt  obliged  to  persecute  it, 
and  it  fell  from  favor.  Even  today  the  ceremony 
of  The  Girding  of  the  Sword,  which  corresponds 
to  the  coronation  in  other  monarchies,  can  be 
performed  only  by  the  Chelibi  or  head  of  the 
Bektashi  Dervishes,  who  comes  on  from  Konia 
for  this  purpose. 

There  is  a  strong  tie  of  brotherhood  between 
Bektashis,  and  the  different  families  composing 
one  chapter  unite  in  worship,  men  and  women 
together,  with  all  the  brotherly  and  sisterly 
zeal  of  a  Methodist  prayer-meeting.  These 

[216] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Mohammedans  are  so  progressive  as  to  dis- 
regard the  veil  before  members  of  their  own 
order. 

The  Bektashis  are  entirely  tolerant  toward 
any  religion  which  is  sincere,  and  believe  in  the 
validity  of  other  faiths,  welcoming  all  men  as 
brothers.  They  represent  the  broadest  views 
that  the  Turks  have  yet  taken  in  matters  reli- 
gious. 

The  broadest  movement  in  all  Islam  today, 
one  which  also  had  its  inception  in  Sufiism,  is 
Bahaism,  sometimes  called  Babism  from  Ali  Mo- 
hammed, "the  Bab,"  its  founder.  This  young 
man,  in  1844,  in  the  heart  of  Persia,  felt  himself 
called  to  proclaim  a  new  religion  of  peace  and 
justice  and  universal  brotherhood.  He  had  med- 
itated over  his  own  religion,  Mohammedanism, 
and  began  to  be  impressed  with  its  failings. 
Finally,  after  a  pilgrimage  to  Kerbala,  the  cen- 
tral shrine  of  the  Shiite  Mohammedans,  like 
Luther  after  his  visit  to  Rome,  he  felt  deeply  the 
hollowness  of  the  religion  in  which  he  had  been 
brought  up.  He  returned  to  Shiraz  and  began 
to  proclaim  himself  the  herald  of  a  reformed 
Islam.  "He  denounced  the  worldliness  and  im- 

[217] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

morality  of  the  mullahs,  or  Mohammedan  clergy, 
and  spoke  with  a  conviction  which  compelled  be- 
lief in  the  era  of  justice  and  happiness 
now  at  hand,  and  the  certain  triumph  of 
the  new  truth  which  he  was  commissioned  to 
proclaim."* 

Ali  Mohammed  was  possessed  of  a  beautiful 
and  striking  personality,  which,  upon  being  fired 
with  the  zeal  of  religion,  proved  invincible  to  the 
mullahs  whom  he  was  denouncing,  and  who 
sought  in  every  way  to  humiliate  him.  He  met 
them  in  public  debate  and  put  them  to  shame. 
So  great  was  the  charm  of  his  speech  that  he  won 
converts  by  the  hundred.  Several  of  his  most 
zealous  followers  also  went  about  teaching, 
among  them  a  young  woman  of  wonderful 
beauty  and  intellectual  power,  Kurat-el-Eyn, 
the  Joan-of-Arc  of  Persia. 

The  cause  of  the  inspired  youth  grew  so  fast 
that  at  last  the  government  was  persuaded  to  put 
it  down — and  persecutions  too  horrible  to  de- 
scribe decimated  the  ranks  of  the  Babis.  As  with 
the  early  Christians,  the  property  of  rich  Babis 
was  confiscated,  their  homes  ravaged  and  burned, 

•Prof.  E.  G.  Browne. 

[218] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

and  whole  families  destroyed  with  the  utmost 
barbarity.  There  are  Persians  living  today 
whose  parents  thus  lost  their  property  and  their 
lives,  and  who  have  been  reduced  from  wealth  to 
poverty.  In  1852,  as  a  last  resort  against  the  re- 
sistless growth  of  Babism,  it  was  determined  to 
put  Ali  Mohammed,  "the  Bab,"  to  death.  Ac- 
cordingly he  was  carried  to  a  public  square  in 
Shiraz  and  shot  in  the  presence  of  many  of  his 
followers. 

The  martyrdom  of  the  Bab  did  not  by  any 
means  end  the  power  of  Babism.  It  continued 
to  grow,  and  in  1864  Baha  Ullah,  who  had  been 
one  of  the  disciples  of  the  Bab,  and  who  had 
been  obliged  to  live  in  exile,  first  in  Bagdad,  and 
then  in  Adrianople,  demanded  the  allegiance  of 
the  Babis.  The  Bab  (the  name  means  "gate"  or 
"door")  had  constantly  asserted  that  one  would 
follow  him  who  should  complete  the  religion 
which  he  was  only  privileged  to  begin.  Baha  Ul- 
lah now  claimed  to  be  that  one,  and  by  his  blame- 
less life  and  spiritual  power  succeeded  in  demon- 
strating his  fitness  for  leadership  and  in  winning 
the  Babis  to  follow  him.  At  his  death  in  1892 
there  were  few  Babis  left  who  had  not  accepted 

[219] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

him  as  the  one  whom  the  Bab  had  predicted 
would  take  the  leadership  of  his  cause.  Baha  Ul- 
lah  assumed  the  authority  to  complete  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Bab,  and  to  abrogate  whatever  was 
necessary.  The  changes  that  he  wrought  in  Bab- 
ism  were  so  great  that  it  deserves  at  present  to  be 
called  Bahaism  after  him,  as  indeed  all  his  fol- 
lowers call  it. 

What  were  the  changes  that  he  made?  Under 
Ali  Mohammed  Babism  was  hardly  more  than  a 
reformed  Islam;  it  was  left  for  Baha  Ullah  to 
give  it  a  world-wide  meaning.  He  transformed 
it  into  a  universal  religion,  whose  platform  is  ex- 
tremely broad. 

Bahaism  teaches  the  validity  of  all  religions, 
claiming  that  truth  is  essentially  one,  and  that, 
as  there  is  only  one  God,  the  worship  of  that  God 
is  the  same,  no  matter  under  what  name  he  is 
called.  The  differences  in  religion  are  due  to  the 
differences  in  race  and  times,  but  these  may  be 
overlooked  in  the  light  of  the  underlying  unity 
of  all  spiritual  truth. 

Such  a  platform  furnishes  an  excellent  basis 
for  proselyting,  since  the  Bahai  missionary  never 
seeks  to  confute  the  beliefs  of  the  peoples  among 

[220] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

whom  he  may  be  teaching.  Whether  he  dis- 
cusses with  Buddhist,  Confucian,  Hindu,  Zoro- 
astrian,  Mohammedan,  Jew  or  Christian,  he 
accepts  their  religion  as  valid  to  begin  with,  and 
seeks  to  demonstrate  the  value  of  Bahaism  from 
their  own  sacred  books.  The  Bahai  missionary 
always  makes  himself  familiar  with  the  sacred 
books  of  those  he  would  convert,  and  argues  with 
the  Jew  from  his  Old  Testament,  with  the  Hindu 
from  the  Vedas,  the  Mohammed  from  the  Koran, 
the  Christian  from  the  Bible,  etc. 

Not  only  did  Baha  Ullah  proclaim  a  universal 
religion  which  should  unite  men  in  one  vast  spir- 
itual brotherhood,  obliterating  all  religious 
hatred  and  rancour,  but  he  taught,  as  early  as 
1870,  the  necessity  for  world  peace.  War  must 
cease,  nations  must  mingle  in  friendship,  justice 
must  become  universal,  all  men  must  be  as 
brothers.  He  censured  that  form  of  patriotism 
which  says,  "My  country,  right  or  wrong." 
"Pride  not  thyself  in  that  thou  lovest  thy  coun- 
try, "he  said,  "but  rather  that  thou  lovest  the 
whole  world."  The  stand  that  he  made  for  uni- 
versal peace  is  remarkable  when  it  is  remembered 
that  it  antedated  by  several  decades  the  rise  of 

[221] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

peace  sentiment  in  Europe,  and  that  he  sent  out 
his  teachings  from  the  cruel  and  benighted  East. 

In  pursuance  of  his  teachings  of  peace,  Baha 
Ullah  forbade  his  followers  to  kill,  even  in  self- 
defence — an  injunction  which  had  never  been 
put  upon  them  under  the  Bab,  when  they  had 
been  obliged  to  take  up  arms  and  fight  with  all 
the  vigor  of  a  zeal-inspired  people.  But  under 
Baha  Ullah  the  fierce  followers  of  the  Bab  be- 
came gentle.  The  employment  of  force  is  hate- 
ful to  God,  he  said.  "If  ye  be  slain  it  is  better 
for  you  than  that  ye  should  slay."  Love  was  to 
take  the  place  of  hatred,  and  peace  to  be  substi- 
tuted for  violence.  "Close  your  eyes  to  racial 
differences  and  welcome  all  with  the  light  of 
Oneness." 

As  a  further  need  for  the  establishment  of  that 
brotherhood  of  nations  which  was  the  vision  of 
Baha  Ullah,  he  advised  the  study  of  languages, 
and  the  choice,  in  time,  of  one  universal  language, 
either  an  existing  one  or  a  new  one,  which  should 
unite  the  minds  of  the  peoples  as  his  universal 
religion  was  to  unite  their  hearts. 

Education  received  great  stress.  "The  diffu- 
sion of  knowledge  is  a  most  laudable  thing,"  he 

[222] 


i 

THE    REAL    TURK 

said.  For  a  father  to  let  his  children  grow  up  in 
ignorance  was  a  sin  against  God — and  if  he 
could  not  afford  to  educate  both  his  sons  and 
daughters,  he  must  educate  his  daughters  first, 
as  they  were  to  be  the  mothers  of  the  future  race. 
A  most  radical  teaching,  this,  to  proceed  from 
the  Orient. 

As  Prof.  Browne  points  out — "Bahaism,  in 
spite  of  the  mystic  enthusiasm  which  pervades 
it,  differs  from  Sufiism  in  the  essentially  practi- 
cal objects  which  it  has  in  view.  The  future  life 
must  not  divert  our  thoughts  from  the  work  of 
regenerating  this  world." 

Not  so  much  stress  is  laid  on  the  salvation  of 
the  individual  soul  for  the  sake  of  a  future  para- 
dise as  for  the  sake  of  a  reformed  life  in  this 
world.  The  Kingdom  of  God,  to  which  the  Ba- 
hais  look  forward  with  vivid  faith,  cannot  come 
to  earth,  they  say,  until  the  individual  is  pre- 
pared for  it.  Hence  they  do  not  aim  at  chang- 
ing the  external  forms  of  life  so  much  as  working 
on  the  heart,  and  improving  the  character  of  men 
by  means  of  their  religion. 

Religion  is  worth  nothing,  Baha  Ullah  said, 
unless  it  is  lived  out  in  the  daily  life.  "In  this 

[228] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

day,  all  must  serve  God  with  purity  and  virtue — 
Some  are  content  with  words,  but  the  truth  of 
words  is  tested  by  deeds  and  dependent  upon 
life.  Deeds  reveal  the  station  of  the  man." 

Work  is  commended  to  all  men.  Idleness  is  a 
sin.  "It  is  necessary  for  you  to  engage  in  arts 
and  business.  Fruitless  trees  have  been  and  will 
be  only  fit  for  fire.  The  lowest  of  men  are  those 
who  bear  no  fruit  upon  the  earth."  There  is  no 
room  in  his  system  for  the  idle  rich.  And  while 
he  does  not  seek  to  overturn  the  social  ranks  and 
classes,  or  put  the  servant  on  a  level  with  his 
master,  yet  he  teaches  the  essential  dignity  of  the 
individual  and  the  honorableness  of  work,  no 
matter  how  menial.  One  of  the  happiest  and 
most  spiritual  men  I  have  ever  met  was  a  Bahai 
who  had  been  a  cook  in  the  service  of  Baha 
Ullah,  and  had  become  glorified  by  his  labor. 
"Man  is  not  worthy  in  the  eyes  of  God/'  says 
Baha  Ullah,  "because  of  wealth  and  adornment, 
learning  and  refinement.  He  is  not  worthy  of 
the  name  man  until  he  be  imbued  with  the  attri- 
butes of  the  Merciful  One — faithfulness,  wis- 
dom, chastity,  intelligence  and  deeds." 

The  rapid  spread  of  this  religion  has  forced 

[224] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

it  upon  the  attention  of  scholars.  Bahaism  now 
numbers  among  its  adherents  about  a  third  of 
the  population  of  Persia — besides  many  persons 
in  India,  Turkestan,  and  Egypt;  and  it  even  has 
followers  in  France,  Germany,  England,  and 
America.  In  this  country  there  are  Bahai 
centers  in  every  large  city,  with  a  total  of  some 
3,000  members.  Bahai  teachers  are  working  in 
many  different  countries  to  spread  their  re- 
ligion. In  fact,  every  Bahai  constitutes  himself 
a  missionary;  you  cannot  be  with  one  an  hour 
but  what  he  enters  upon  a  discussion  of  religion. 
It  is  one  of  the  religious  duties  of  a  Bahai  to 
gain  new  adherents  to  his  cause. 

Bahaism  in  the  East  has  produced  wonderful 
results  in  the  lives  of  its  followers.  One  of  the 
most  striking  of  these  is  the  tolerance  and  sym- 
pathy for  other  religions  and  races  which  is  al- 
ways characteristic  of  Bahais,  even  though  they 
may  be  wild  shepherds  upon  the  mountainsides 
of  Persia.  They  are  the  soul  of  kindness  and 
devotion  to  one  another,  and  they  are  com- 
manded by  their  religion  to  be  kind  to  all, 
whether  Bahais  or  not. 

Bahaism  has  proved  a  great  solvent  of  racial 

[225] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

and  religious  hatred  in  Persia.  It  has  many  con- 
verts among  the  Jews  and  Zoroastrians  of  that 
country  as  well  as  among  Mohammedans,  and 
they  all  meet  together  in  perfect  unity  and  love, 
where  before  there  existed  only  hatred  and  con- 
tempt. It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  men  of 
five  or  six  races  and  as  many  religions  sit  down 
at  table  together,  bound  by  the  ties  of  a  common 
religion,  members  of  a  universal  brotherhood. 

The  opium  habit,  which  is  a  great  evil  in 
Persia,  was  denounced  by  Baha  Ullah,  and  is 
never  indulged  in  by  his  faithful  followers. 
Smoking  is  also  discouraged.  Honesty  in  word 
and  deed  is  enjoined  upon  all,  and  the  Persians, 
who  are  naturally  some  of  the  worst  liars  in  the 
world,  show  a  great  change  for  the  better  when 
they  become  Bahais,  and  then  are  found  much 
more  trustworthy  as  servants,  and  more  honor- 
able in  business. 

Bahaism  gives  to  the  Oriental  ideals  of  sex 
purity  which  were  never  held  before.  It  con- 
demns polygamy  altogether,  and  puts  its  fol- 
lowers upon  a  basis  of  monogamy.  Travellers 
in  Persia  testify  that  the  home  life  of  Bahais  is 
far  above  that  of  their  Mohammedan  brothers. 

[226] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Chastity  is  commanded — a  new  ideal  to  the 
Orient. 

The  Bahai  women  see  opportunities  which 
their  Mohammedan  sisters  never  dream  of,  since 
education  was  opened  to  them  through  Baha 
Ullah.  They  have  been  eagerly  waiting  for  a 
chance  to  acquire  the  learning  of  the  twentieth 
century  and  to  take  their  place  by  the  side  of 
men  in  the  regeneration  of  their  country  and  of 
the  world. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  in  time  Baha- 
ism  will  become  the  religion  of  all  Persia,  and  its 
growth  in  other  countries  shows  no  signs  of 
weakening;  it  is  a  movement  to  be  watched,  for 
it  is  in  complete  sympathy  with  the  most  pro- 
gressive tendencies  of  the  day. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  compare  at  this  point 
the  inner  life  of  the  East  and  of  the  West.  Is 
the  East  more  spiritual  than  the  West?  There  is 
no  doubt  that  it  is.  The  effect  of  education  and 
scientific  progress  in  the  West  has  seemed  to  be 
scepticism,  and,  what  is  worse,  indifference  to- 
ward religion.  Many  of  our  churches  are  grow- 
ing empty,  ministers  are  at  their  wits'  ends,  and 
men  of  affairs  too  often  become  content  to  get 

[227] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

along  without  any  definite  religion.  One  man,  a 
scientist,  remarked  to  me  that  science  had  pro- 
duced more  benefit  to  the  world  in  the  last  hun- 
dred years  than  religion  had  in  all  the  centuries 
preceding.  It  is  not  hard  to  see  where  the  in- 
terest of  the  West  lies — practical  things  absorb 
its  attention.  In  so  far  as  religion  is  practical  it 
appeals;  otherwise,  it  does  not. 

The  East  has  not  yet  awakened  to  pure  intel- 
lectualism,  and  is  bound  to  superstition.  Even  in 
business  the  fear  of  God  is  stronger  than  the 
dollar.  Two  merchants  are  bargaining  together. 
The  seller  wants  a  larger  price ;  the  buyer  replies, 
"I  will  give  it — but  may  Allah  turn  it  bad  for 
you."  This  curse,  pronounced  not  on  the  seller, 
but  on  the  extra  money  which  he  demands,  is 
usually  enough  to  give  him  pause  and  make  him 
content  with  the  smaller  sum.  The  Greek  mer- 
chant, however,  takes  a  thrifty  advantage  of 
this  way  of  bargaining  with  the  Turk,  for  he 
does  not  fear  the  curse  and  is  quite  willing  to  ac- 
cept the  tainted  money. 

No  plans  are  made  for  the  future  without  the 
provision  ffInshallah"—"God  willing."  There 
was  a  woman  who  was  very  pious,  and  never 

[228] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

made  a  promise  without  the  humble  "Inshallah." 
Her  husband,  becoming  tired  of  this,  ordered  her 
to  stop  it,  or  he  would  beat  her.  One  morning 
as  he  was  leaving  for  business  he  asked  her  what 
time  they  would  have  supper.  "At  seven  o'clock 
— God  willing."  At  this  word,  which  had  slipped 
out  in  spite  of  his  threat,  the  man  took  a  stick  and 
gave  her  a  good  beating,  saying,  "Nonsense, 
woman,  we  will  have  supper  at  seven,  whether 
God  wills  or  not,"  and  then  went  on  his  way.  At 
nightfall  as  he  was  returning  to  his  home,  some 
robbers  fell  upon  him  and  beat  him  so  that  he 
lay  there  insensible  for  most  of  the  night.  In 
the  early  hours  of  the  morning  he  managed  to 
crawl  home — a  regenerated  man — and  told  his 
wife  to  say  "Inshallah"  all  she  wanted. 

Stronger  than  any  other  idea  in  the  Mussul- 
man's mind  is  his  belief  in  destiny,  and  his  every 
act  is  in  accordance  with  this  fatalism.  The 
candy  vender  enters  a  coffee  shop  and  smokes, 
regardless  whether  he  misses  a  customer  or  not; 
the  Turkish  boatmen  or  hackmen  do  not  com- 
pete for  a  customer  with  the  fury  of  other 
nationalities,  because  they  know  if  it  is  their  des- 
tiny to  get  one,  he  will  come  anyway;  nor  does 

[229] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  Turkish  merchant  force  his  goods  upon  you 
nor  race  out  into  the  street  after  you,  like  the  Jew 
and  the  Armenian.  The  hustling  American 
traveller  wonders  how  the  Turk  can  make  a  liv- 
ing. As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  does  not  make  so 
good  a  living  as  his  Jewish,  Greek  and  Armenian 
competitors,  but  the  peace  and  contentment 
which  is  written  on  his  face  are  worth  the  cost  he 
pays  for  it.  There  is  no  strain  in  his  business 
life.  He  is  as  calm  and  placid  as  if  he  were  an 
anchorite  meditating  upon  the  goodness  of  his 
Creator. 

The  absence  of  ambition  in  the  average  Turk 
is  partly  an  outcome  of  this  same  fatalism;  he  is 
content  with  whatever  Allah  sends,  having  few 
desires;  in  times  of  business  stress  his  faith  in 
God  is  superb.  In  these  ways,  religion  enters 
into  the  daily  life  of  the  Turk  to  sweeten  it  and 
make  it  peaceful.  Misfortune  is  met  with  com- 
plete resignation.  Worry  never  dwells  upon  the 
brow  of  the  Turk. 

Life's  end  is  met  with  this  same  calm  fortitude. 
The  Angel  of  Death  never  comes  save  at  God's 
command,  and  at  the  destined  time — so  why 
murmur  or  repine?  Why  fruitlessly  endeavor 

[230] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

to  escape  one's  fate?  The  prime  minister  of  a 
certain  sultan  once  came  in  fright  to  his  master 
and  asked  leave  to  withdraw  for  the  rest  of  his 
life  to  Tunis,  because  the  Angel  of  Death  was 
following  him  with  calm  steps.  The  Sultan 
granted  the  request;  and  as  the  prime  minister 
walked  gladly  from  the  room,  thinking  he  had 
saved  his  life  for  a  few  years  more,  the  sultan  saw 
a  grim  smile  upon  the  face  of  Death,  who  stood 
near.  "Why  do  you  smile?"  he  said.  Death  re- 
plied: "Your  majesty,  Allah  sent  me  to  fetch 
this  man,  but  I  was  commanded  to  take  him  at 
Tunis,  I  wondered  how  I  could  get  him  to  go 
there,  but  now  you  have  solved  the  difficulty  for 


me." 


Such  fatalism  has  its  evil  side — a  folding  of 
the  hands  without  effort  to  struggle  against  un- 
favorable conditions — but  it  relieves  life  of  much 
of  its  terror.  It  is  said  that  experienced  soldiers 
in  any  country  become  fatalists,  influenced  by  fre- 
quent exposure  to  death  to  accept  fatalistic  ideas 
as  a  protection  against  fear.  The  calmness  with 
which  they  face  the  whistling  bullet  is  induced 
by  a  belief  that  they  will  not  be  shot  until  their 
time  comes.  Napoleon  was  a  confirmed  fatalist. 

[231] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

His  faith  in  his  own  destiny  was  so  strong  that 
by  it  he  inspired  all  his  followers,  and  the  spirit 
with  which  they  fought  was  but  a  reflection  of 
his  own  fiery  assurance. 

In  the  East,  in  addition  to  the  spirit  of  fatal- 
ism, there  is  the  promise  of  immediate  Paradise  to 
every  Mohammedan  who  falls  in  a  religious  war- 
fare, and  this  gives  not  only  calm  acceptance  of 
death  but  a  welcoming  of  it  and  lends  a  fury  to 
Mohammedan  warfare  which  has  more  than  once 
made  Europe  quail. 

The  Mohammedans  in  general  carry  their  re- 
ligion into  their  everyday  life — it  is  not  a  matter 
of  mere  seventh-day  observance.  Their  hospi- 
tality is  renowned.  Never  do  they  let  the  stran- 
ger go  hungry.  They  have  few  organized  chari- 
ties, but  each  Mohammedan  is  at  the  service  of  his 
brother.  A  poor  man  can  get  bread  at  the 
kitchens  of  the  rich.  No  one  need  starve.  The 
feeling  of  brotherhood  is  very  strong  in  Islam — 
stronger  than  in  Christianity.  It  is  a  powerful 
religious  democracy.  He  who  asks  in  the  name 
of  Allah  is  seldom  refused. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  reverence  with 
which  the  Mohammedan  goes  through  the  forms 

[232] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

of  his  religion.  The  mosque  service  cannot  fail 
to  inspire  any  visitor  with  its  feeling  of  hushed 
worship  and  devotion.  The  Mohammedan  at 
prayer  has  no  attention  for  anything  else. 
Nothing  can  distract  him.  The  fear  of  God  is 
always  in  the  heart  of  the  Mohammedan.  He  is 
simple-minded — childlike,  if  you  will — for  he 
lives  near  to  God.  His  speech  is  permeated  with 
pious  phrases. 

The  hold  of  religion  upon  pious  Mohammed- 
ans is  best  seen  in  their  faithful  observance  of 
the  long  fast  of  Ramazan,  necessitating  a  real 
sacrifice  of  personal  comfort  and  efficiency;  and 
in  abstinence  from  liquor,  a  habit  which  Christian 
countries  have  not  been  able  to  acquire.  Here 
is  a  vigorous  race  full  of  red  blood  that  is  pure 
and  strong.  The  Turks  are  neither  degenerate 
nor  effete. 

The  things  of  which  I  have  so  far  been  speak- 
ing are  the  externals  of  religion,  rather  than  the 
indications  of  a  true  spirituality;  but  there  are 
many  ways  in  which  the  Oriental  shows  himself 
to  be  more  spiritually-minded  than  his  Western 
brother.  His  thoughts  are  more  constantly  upon 
the  divine.  It  is  not  without  significance  that 

[233] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

every  one  of  the  great  world  religions  has  arisen 
in  the  East  and  had  its  conception  in  the  mind  of 
an  Oriental.  There  is  something  in  the  East 
which  seems  to  induce  meditation.  The  climate 
invites  mysticism — just  as  our  American  climate 
forces  life  into  feverish  activity.  One  falls  under 
"the  spell  of  the  East"  insensibly;  it  is  there — a 
real  thing — as  vital  in  the  lives  of  its  peoples  as 
our  machinery  and  productivity  are  to  us.  How 
little  time  our  business  men  have  for  meditation 
on  the  nature  of  existence!  How  seldom  when 
they  are  together  does  their  conversation  turn  on 
spiritual  themes:  the  nature  of  the  Ultimate — 
man's  position  in  the  universe — his  relation  to 
the  Divine.  The  typical  American  has  no  cos- 
mic view;  his  mind  does  not  scan  the  universe, 
nor  find  for  him  any  relation  to  the  mysterious 
All  of  which  the  world  where  he  breathes  and 
lives  is  but  an  infinitesimal  part.  He  bothers 
little  with  such  idle  speculations ! 

To  the  Oriental,  however,  this  is  the  one  ab- 
sorbing theme.  He  is  ever  pondering  upon  the 
nature  of  existence  as  a  whole.  Other  things, 
the  practical  things  of  everyday  life,  are  but 
passing  shows  from  which  he  is  glad  to  withdraw 

[234] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

whenever  possible  in  order  to  be  face  to  face  with 
the  Divine — to  feel  that  mystic  sense  of  union 
with  the  Whole  which  is  peculiarly  Oriental.  If 
two  or  three  business  men  get  together,  their 
talk  is  sure  to  run  into  religion,  which  is  the  fa- 
vorite subject  of  discussion.  From  the  time  he 
enters  this  world  till  the  time  he  leaves  it,  the  Ori- 
ental is  surrounded  with  the  feeling  of  awe  and 
reverence  for  the  Unseen,  and  a  reaching  out  for 
a  closer  relation  to  it. 

It  is  from  the  East  that  there  have  come  the 
ideas  of  renunciation  and  submission  to  God,  and 
the  absence  of  all  desire  save  His  will,  without 
which  essentials  no  individual  can  become  truly 
spiritual. 

A  Mussulman  is  "one  who  submits  to  God." 
The  patience  with  which  he  bears  suffering  and 
misfortune  is  wonderful.  His  calm  and  majestic 
attitude  toward  the  buffets  of  the  world,  render- 
ing him  superior  to  suffering,  places  him,  even 
in  misfortune,  above  the  plane  of  material  fluc- 
tuations— an  accomplishment  which  only  a 
strong  religion  can  bring  to  pass. 

What  is  the  goal  of  every  individual's  desire, 
save  to  be  beyond  the  power  of  misfortune — to 

[235] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

be  assured  of  constant  peace  and  happiness? 
There  is  one  way  of  striving  for  this:  piling  up 
investments,  perfecting  the  external  conditions 
of  life,  surrounding  oneself  with  friends — and 
then  shaking  one's  fist  in  the  face  of  Destiny  and 
defying  it;  but  the  very  defiance  shows  a  fear, 
and  no  stronghold  is  proof  against  calamity. 
And  even  if  all  other  obstacles  to  happiness  were 
removed,  death  alone  were  sufficient  to  disturb 
the  materialist's  peace  of  mind. 

It  was  an  Oriental  who  said,  "Lay  not  up  for 
yourselves  treasures  upon  earth,  where  moth  and 
rust  doth  corrupt  and  where  thieves  break 
through  and  steal;"  and  having  perhaps  a  vision 
of  the  bravado  of  our  modern  materialist,  this 
same  Oriental  told  the  story  of  a  man  who  piled 
up  wealth  in  his  barns  and  then  invited  his 
friends  to  carouse,  defying  Destiny  to  do  him 
harm — fool  that  he  was!  His  grain  was  safe, 
but  he  was  not,  for  his  soul  was  required  of  him 
that  very  night. 

Emerson's  poem  "Hamatreya"  admirably 
illustrates  this  principle  of  material  possession. 

Bulkeley,  Hunt,  Willard,  Hosmer,  Meriam,  Flint, 
Possessed  the  land  which  rendered  to  their  toil 
[236] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Hay,  corn,  roots,  hemp,  flax,  apples,  wool  and  wood. 
Each  of  these  landlords  walked  amidst  his  farm, 
Saying,  "  'Tis  mine,  my  children's  and  my  name's. 
How  sweet  the  west  wind  sounds  in  my  own  trees ! 
How  graceful  climb  those  shadows  on  my  hill ! 
I  fancy  these  pure  waters  and  the  flags 
Know  me,  as  does  my  dog:  we  sympathize; 
And,  I  affirm,  my  actions  smack  of  the  soil." 

Where  are  these  men?    Asleep  beneath  their  grounds 

And  strangers,  fond  as  they,  their  furrows  plough. 

Earth  laughs  in  flowers,  to  see  her  boastful  boys 

Earth-proud,  proud  of  the  earth  which  is  not  theirs, 

Who  steer  the  plough,  but  cannot  steer  their  feet 

Clear  of  the  grave. 

They  added  ridge  to  valley,  brook  to  pond, 

And  sighed  for  all  that  bounded  their  domain; 

'  This  suits  me  for  a  pasture ;  that's  my  park ; 

We  must  have  clay,  lime,  gravel,  granite-ledge, 

And  misty  lowlands,  where  to  go  for  peat. 

The  land  is  well, —  lies  fairly  to  the  south. 

'Tis  good,  when  you  have  crossed  the  sea  and  back, 

To  find  the  sitfast  acres  where  you  left  them." 

Ah!  the  hot  owner  sees  not  Death,  who  adds 

Him  to  his  land,  a  lump  of  mould  the  more. 

Hear  what  the  Earth  says: — 

EARTH-SONG 
"  Mine  and  yours ; 
Mine,  not  yours. 
Earth  endures; 
Stars  abide — 
Shine  down  in  the  old  sea ; 
Old  are  the  shores; 
But  where  are  old  men? 
I  who  have  seen  much, 
Such  have  I  never  seen. 
[237] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

"The  lawyer's  deed 
Ran  sure, 
In  tail, 

To  them,  and  to  their  heirs 
Who  shall  succeed, 
Without  fail, 
Forevermore. 

"Here  is  the  land, 
Shaggy  with  wood, 
With  its  old  valley, 
Mound  and  flood. 
But  the  heritors? — 
Fled  like  the  flood's  foam. 
The  lawyer,  and  the  laws, 
And  the  kingdom, 
Clean  swept  herefrom. 

"They  called  me  theirs, 
Who  so  controlled  me ; 
Yet  every  one 

Wished  to  stay,  and  is  gone, 
How  am  I  theirs, 
If  they  cannot  hold  me, 
But  I  hold  them?" 

When  I  heard  the  Earth-song, 

I  was  no  longer  brave; 

My  avarice  cooled 

Like  lust  in  the  chill  of  the  grave. 

To  the  Occidental,  a  material  possession  seems 
the  most  solid  thing  in  this  universe;  but  to  the 
Oriental,  who  has  always  the  eternal  values  in 
mind,  the  things  of  this  earth  appear  very  fluc- 

[238  ] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

tuating  and  unstable,  while  death  is  the  only  sure 
and  universal  adjunct  of  life. 

The  best  way  of  insuring  peace  in  the  midst 
of  one's  possessions  is  by  being  detached  from 
them.  Only  he  who  is  without  desire  is  safe  from 
misfortune.  As  Laotze  says,  "By  not  making 
any  claims  of  ownership,  the  sage  is  superior  to 
loss."  Of  course  he  is,  for  how  can  a  man  lose 
what  he  does  not  possess?  The  man  who  is  free 
from  desire  and  submissive  to  God's  will  looks 
upon  his  possessions  as  loaned  to  him,  and  is 
ready  at  any  time  to  see  them  go  without  com- 
plaint or  whining. 

The  Oriental  can  do  without  the  things  which 
the  Westerner  considers  as  necessities.  He  can 
be  happy  under  almost  any  circumstances.  Thus 
he  lives  perpetually  in  a  realm  of  peace,  above 
the  jar  and  turmoil  of  the  world.  In  occasional 
solitudes  he  meditates  upon  God — and  his  life  is 
lived  in  spiritual  spaces. 

I  do  not  say  that  the  East  has  all.  The  prac- 
tical achievements  of  the  West  are  also  necessary. 
The  perfect  civilization  would  be  that  which 
would  combine  these  two  elements:  masterful 
wrestling  with  Nature  for  the  utilization  of  her 

[239] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

resources  and  the  prevention  of  waste,  whether 
economic,  social,  or  physiological;  and  the  calm 
submission  to  the  will  of  the  Almighty  which  in- 
sures happiness.  Either  without  the  other  is  but 
half  of  perfection. 


[240] 


PECULIAR  RITES  AND  BELIEFS  OF 
ISLAM 


CHAPTER  XIII 

PECULIAR  RITES  AND  BELIEFS  OF 
ISLAM 

One  of  the  greatest  occasions  in  the  Moham- 
medan year  is  The  Night  of  Power,  which  comes 
at  the  end  of  the  month  of  fasting.  It  was  on 
this  night  that  the  Koran  is  believed  to  have  de- 
scended from  heaven,  letter  perfect.  On  this 
most  holy  anniversary  angels  descend  from 
heaven  to  take  men's  prayers  up  to  Allah,  and 
the  act  of  worship  is  of  tenfold  merit. 

At  Constantinople  prayers  are  always  held  on 
The  Night  of  Power  in  the  Mosque  of  St. 
Sophia,  which  is  closely  packed  with  "the  faith- 
ful," to  the  number  of  seven  or  ten  thousand.  A 
limited  number  of  tourists  and  foreign  residents 
are  admitted  into  the  gallery  as  spectators — a 
privilege  which  is  as  desirable  as  it  is  hard  to 
secure.  In  the  autumn  of  1909,  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  see  this  wonderful  ceremony,  and  after 
it  to  mingle  in  disguise  with  the  Mohammedans 
on  the  floor  of  the  mosque. 

[243] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

A  small  party  of  Americans  went  under  the 
auspices  of  the  American  Embassy.  (Each 
embassy  is  allowed  to  take  a  certain  number  of 
people.)  Upon  arriving  we  found  the  gallery 
already  filled  with  other  parties — French,  Ger- 
man, English — who  had  come  with  their  kavas- 
ses.  We  found  our  way  to  the  edge  of  the 
balcony  and  looked  down.  There,  through  the 
midst  of  the  floating  lights — hundreds  of  little 
oil  cups  burning  in  chandeliers — we  discerned 
the  throng  of  worshippers,  all  wearing  red  fezes. 

The  service  consisted  of  the  usual  prayers,  led 
by  the  imam  from  his  tall  pulpit.  The  impres- 
sive thing  about  it  was  the  immense  number  of 
worshippers,  and  the  absolute  unity  with  which 
they  went  through  the  different  movements  of 
the  prayers.  To  see  some  ten  thousand  men  pros- 
trating themselves  in  the  direction  of  Mecca, 
touching  their  foreheads  to  the  floor  and  rising 
again,  as  one  man,  is  a  sight  I  shall  never  forget ; 
nor  shall  I  forget  the  sound  of  ten  thousand 
voices  raising  to  the  dome  a  united  chant  in 
praise  of  God.  The  sightseers  whom  I  was 
among  took  this  awe-inspiring  spectacle  as  a 
mere  diversion,  and  chattered  and  laughed 

[244] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

through  it  all.  I  stole  away  to  the  end  of  the 
corridor,  where  I  could  be  all  alone  and  give  my- 
self up  to  the  emotions  aroused  by  this  great 
ceremony.  There  was  the  same  compelling 
power  which  is  felt  in  a  great  revival  meeting — 
the  audience  had  become  as  one  man,  each  indi- 
vidual having  merged  his  soul  into  the  soul  of 
the  whole.  They  were  so  closely  packed  together 
in  rows  that  each  one  had  just  room  to  make  his 
prostrations,  and  they  did  not  look  to  right  or 
left,  but  devoted  themselves  to  the  worship  with 
absolute  zeal  for  upwards  of  an  hour. 

As  I  watched  them,  several  impressions  came 
to  me.  One  was  of  the  wonderful  unity  of  Islam, 
expressed  here  so  strikingly  in  the  perfect  unison 
with  which  these  thousands  performed  their 
prayers ;  and  there  was  also  the  feeling  of  power 
— of  great  potentiality.  What  might  not  this 
zeal  accomplish?  Here  in  Constantinople,  one 
of  the  most  Europeanized  of  Moslem  cities, 
under  the  progressive  rule  of  the  Young  Turks, 
we  were  witnesses  of  the  same  blind  religious 
fanaticism  which  had  so  often  made  Christendom 
tremble.  A  few  words  from  the  imam  in  incita- 
tion  against  the  Christians,  and  the  ten  thousand 

[245] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

worshippers  would  have  become  a  howling 
mob,  hurling  itself  murderously  against  the 
unbelievers. 

Yet  their  fanaticism  appealed  to  me.  After 
all,  it  was  zeal,  real  devotion  to  Allah,  which 
brought  them  together  and  welded  them  into 
one  spirit  of  adoration  before  the  throne  of  their 
Creator.  Was  this  a  thing  to  laugh  at?  They 
were  worshipping  God,  and  I  felt  that  his  all- 
hearing  ear  was  open  to  their  supplications,  and 
that  he  accepted  their  worship  in  proportion  to 
its  sincerity.  I  felt  a  tie  which  united  me  to 
these  children  of  the  same  Father,  and  thereby 
in  spirit  I  was  one  of  the  vast  brotherhood  of 
Islam. 

At  length  the  service  ended,  the  imam  came 
down  from  his  pulpit,  and  the  audience  broke  up 
into  little  groups  about  different  mullahs  who  ex- 
pounded the  Koran  to  them,  or  gave  them  hom- 
ilies on  this  life  and  the  next.  With  an  Ameri- 
can friend  I  put  on  a  fez  I  had  brought  in  my 
pocket,  went  down  to  the  entrance  and  slipped 
in,  walking  around  among  the  Turks  and  visiting 
the  groups  of  listeners.  We  coulo!,  not  follow  the 
sermons,  from  lack  of  proficiency  in  Turkish,  but 

[246] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

could  gather  from  the  fierce  looks  of  several 
speakers,  and  the  ejaculations  of  their  listeners, 
that  the  Mohammedan  fanaticism  was  at  its 
height,  and  we  felt  somewhat  like  lambs  among 
wolves.  We  had  been  listening  for  some  time  in 
one  group  when  my  friend  whispered  to  me  that 
we  were  being  watched.  It  seems  our  actions 
in  some  way  aroused  suspicion.  The  Moham- 
medans had  a  queer  gesture  by  which  they  gave 
approval  to  the  words  of  the  speaker — a  raising 
of  the  palms  toward  the  ears — which  we  tried  to 
imitate,  but  evidently  with  poor  success.  We 
did  not  dare  linger  now  that  we  were  being  fol- 
lowed, for  the  discovery  of  Christians  among 
them  on  this  most  sacred  night  might  have  pro- 
duced serious  results.  Had  anyone  accosted  us 
we  must  have  shown  by  our  ignorance  of  Turk- 
ish that  we  were  foreigners.  So  we  sidled  for 
the  door,  crab-like,  and  made  a  hasty  exit,  and 
crossing  the  court  to  a  little  coffee-shop  we  sat 
and  smoked  and  sipped  coffee,  conversing  about 
our  interesting  experience. 

The  peculiar  performance  of  the  Howling 
Dervishes  takes  place  on  Thursdays  in  a  teke,  or 
monastery,  at  Scutari.  On  that  day  a  string  of 

[247] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

carriages  may  be  seen  ascending  the  hill  from 
the  boat-landing  at  Scutari,  and  by  half  past 
two,  when  the  performance  begins,  the  visitors' 
gallery  and  part  of  the  floor  of  the  teke  is  filled 
with  travellers  of  all  nationalities — German 
French,  Swiss,  English  and  American.  Let  us 
secure  a  seat  on  the  floor  next  to  the  railing  which 
separates  us  from  the  actors. 

Close  by  us  stands  the  line  of  Howling  Derv- 
ishes, ready  to  begin  work.  Their  sheik,,  or 
leader,  steps  forward  facing  them  and  begins  the 
prayers,  which  they  go  through  once  as  in  a  reg- 
ular mosque.  Then  they  begin  chanting  the  at- 
tributes or  qualities  of  God  in  Arabic,  especially 
confining  themselves  to  the  rapid  repetition  of 
the  words  "La  Ilaha  ill  Allah3'— "There  is  no 
God  but  Allah" — which  is  the  most  sacred  group 
of  words  in  the  Moslem  theology.  Faster  and 
faster  they  chant,  with  the  purpose  of  working 
themselves  up  to  a  religious  frenzy  or  ecstasy. 
As  they  chant  they  sway  back  and  forth,  nodding 
their  heads  in  religious  abandon.  At  first  the 
movements  are  volitional,  but  one  by  one  the 
dervishes  assume  a  state  of  religious  enthusiasm 
in  which  their  actions  are  largely  subconscious. 

[248] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

Standing  near  enough  to  them  to  study  their 
faces,  we  easily  distinguish  the  adepts,  whose 
emotional  systems  have  long  ago  been  trained 
to  easy  entrance  into  the  blissful  state  of  lialet, 
or  "oneness  with  God."  They  quiver  and  droop 
in  all  their  bodies,  and  their  faces  take  on  an 
empty  expression  which  is  a  sign  of  their  having 
almost  left  the  plane  of  the  conscious. 

But  things  are  not  lively  enough  to  suit  the 
master  dervish  who  is  leading  them.  He  steps 
nearer,  increases  the  volume  of  his  tone,  fastens 
his  black,  magnetic  eyes  on  the  swaying  line  of 
zealots,  and  as  he  repeats  the  "La  Ilaha  ill 
Allah"  in  sharp  staccato-like  tones,  he  taps  his 
foot  fiercely  upon  the  ground  with  an  impelling 
rhythm.  The  dervishes  respond  to  the  hypnotic 
stimulus,  and  the  work  grows  warmer.  The 
outer  garments  are  cast  off,  sweat  pours  down 
the  faces  of  the  chanters,  and  they  grow  more 
and  more  excited.  Suddenly  an  old  graybeard 
of  seventy  jumps  out  of  the  line,  and  yelling  at 
the  top  of  his  voice  leaps  twice  high  into  the  air 
and  comes  down  on  his  knees  upon  the  bare  floor, 
with  violence  enough  to  break  a  sane  man's  knee- 
cap. They  pick  him  up  and  lead  him  to  the 

[249] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

sheik,  who  smooths  his  forehead  to  calm  him. 
Then  the  performance  goes  on  with  redoubled 
vigor. 

The  finest  part  of  the  show  is  yet  to  come.  A 
large  negro  soldier  who  is  the  prize  exhibit  of 
the  teke  is  just  getting  warmed  up.  Presently 
he  begins  to  froth  at  the  mouth,  and  running,  he 
dashes  his  head  violently  against  the  pillar  which 
supports  the  roof.  Not  satisfied  with  that  he 
leaps  up  and  strikes  his  head  against  the  stone 
floor.  Now  the  spectators  are  getting  a  fair  re- 
turn for  the  franc  they  paid  to  see  the  perform- 
ance. After  the  negro  has  been  led  away  the 
sheik  allows  the  enthusiasm  to  die  down.  Soon 
the  chanting  stops,  and  the  healing  of  the  lame 
and  sick  who  have  gathered  there  takes  place. 

Percival  Lowell  in  his  "Esoteric  Japan,"  de- 
scribes phenomena  similar  to  those  noticed  among 
the  dervishes  of  Turkey.  He  tells  of  conditions 
in  which  the  body,  when  its  indwelling  soul  is 
worked  up  into  a  frenzy  of  religious  faith,  seems 
capable  of  enduring  scalding  heat  without  pain 
and  without  harmful  results. 

Even  among  the  natives  of  the  Pacific  Islands 
this  art  is  practised.  After  working  themselves 

[260] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

into  a  religious  frenzy  they  walk  barefooted 
upon  red-hot  stones  without  injury.  To  pass 
such  phenomena  off  with  the  single  word  "fake" 
is  no  longer  possible,  because  of  the  attestations 
of  scientific  observers  to  their  reality. 

Hanging  upon  the  walls  of  the  teke  are 
strange  implements  which  speak  of  more  dread- 
ful practises  than  we  had  been  allowed  to  see. 
It  was  formerly  the  custom  here,  and  still  is  in 
less  public  centers,  for  the  dervishes  to  torture 
themselves  in  their  final  ecstacy  with  sharp  in- 
struments which  pierce  the  flesh,  with  red-hot 
irons  which  they  handle,  and  with  live  coals  which 
are  placed  upon  the  tongue.  These  gruesome 
rites  Abdul  Hamid  had  prohibited — the  one  hu- 
mane act  of  his  reign. 

Another  custom  in  Islam  similar  in  its  develop- 
ment of  the  same  indifference  to  pain  is  that  of 
the  so-called  Persian  Festival,  or  celebration 
of  the  martyrdom  of  Hussein  and  Hassan,  in 
which  the  Persians,  more  fanatical  even  than  the 
Turks,  gash  themselves  upon  the  head  and  breast 
until  blood  flows  in  streams;  yet  after  the  per- 
formance they  put  on  a  salve,  and  the  wounds  are 
said  to  heal  up  quickly. 

[251] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

We  seldom  will  admit  any  fact  which  we  are 
not  able  to  understand.  Were  a  savage  to  go 
back  to  his  tribe  and  tell  his  friends  that  he  had 
visited  a  great  city  and  ridden  in  carriages  with- 
out horses,  and  had  sailed  through  the  air  'way 
above  the  tops  of  trees  with  a  man-bird,  he  would 
very  probably  meet  with  sublime  incredulity. 
So  with  the  average  man  of  cultured  America: 
tell  him  of  an  event  the  causes  of  which  he  cannot 
understand,  and  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  he  will 
refuse  to  believe  it  occurred.  This  illogical  shut- 
ting of  the  eyes  to  actual  occurrences  is  not  at 
all  confined  to  laymen,  but  even  penetrates  the 
ranks  of  would-be  scientists,  many  of  whom  are 
far  more  bigoted  and  blind  to  the  everyday 
events  about  them  than  is  the  average  man.  It 
is  only  since  hypnotism  has  revealed  strange  psy- 
chic occurrences  that  such  religious  phenomena 
as  I  have  been  describing  have  received  any  se- 
rious investigation. 

I  suppose  that  the  tourists  left  the  teke  with  a 
feeling  of  thankfulness  that  they  belonged  to 
an  enlightened  religion  which  contains  no  such 
rites.  Yet  it  is  not  difficult  to  find  parallels  in 
Christianity  where,  too,  the  heart  of  the  devotee 

[252] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

seeks  to  lose  itself  in  the  One  by  similar  perform- 
ances. Davenport,  in  his  "Primitive  Traits  of 
Religious  Revivals,"  describes  features  of  fa- 
mous revival  meetings  which  are  just  as  abnor- 
mal: people  were  seized  with  "the  shakes,"  or 
were  hurled  violently  to  the  ground  by  some  un- 
known force,  and  lay  frothing  at  the  mouth  in  a 
state  of  trance  which  corresponds  exactly  to  the 
ecstasy  into  which  these  dervishes  sought  to  work 
themselves.  The  use  of  music  and  of  magnetic 
speakers  in  the  great  revival  meetings  corres- 
ponds to  the  repetition  of  the  "La  Ilaha  ill 
Allah"  and  the  hypnotic  influence  of  the  black- 
eyed  sheik.  It  is  a  matter  of  arousing  the  emo- 
tions and  holding  them  at  white  heat  until  the 
audience  passes  into  a  subconscious  state  in  which 
it  is  peculiarly  open  to  suggestion. 

Such  performances,  however,  are  no  more 
characteristic  of  Islam,  whose  regular  mosque 
service  is  essentially  dignified  and  sane,  than  the 
exuberance  of  the  Holy  Jumpers  is  characteris- 
tic of  Christianity.  Mankind  possesses  a  strange 
faculty  for  seeing  the  abnormal  and  peculiar  at 
a  distance,  without  being  able  to  perceive  it 
nearer  home.  Self-analysis  is  good,  not  only  for 

[253] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

the  individual,  but  for  the  state,  and  even  for 
religion  itself.  It  helps  us  to  prune  away  the 
excrescences  which  are  not  vital  and  which  do 
not  bear  good  fruit.  For  this  reason  the  study 
of  comparative  religion  is  imperative.  It  should 
form  a  part  of  every  curriculum  and  be  taught  in 
our  Sunday  schools,  but,  alasl  the  majority  of 
religious  people  prefer  to  safeguard  their  con- 
victions by  refraining  from  facing  facts. 

There  is  another  sect  of  dervishes  whose  cere- 
monies are  more  pleasing — the  Mevlevis  or 
Dancing  Dervishes,  who  hold  a  public  service  in 
their  teke  in  Pera  every  Friday.  Among  these 
the  ecstasy  or  state  of  halet  is  sought  by  whirl- 
ing around  in  a  circular  dance  which  symbolizes 
the  movement  of  the  planets  about  the  sun. 
Twelve  dervishes,  clad  in  flowing  robes,  with  tall 
brown  hats,  enter  the  hall  and  commence  their 
slow,  graceful  dance  about  the  central  figure, 
their  sheik.  There  is  nothing  violent  about  this 
ceremony,  which  ends,  as  it  begins,  with  each 
dervish's  bowing  low  before  his  leader;  the 
dancing  step  is  so  smooth  and  practised  that  the 
dervishes  seem  to  float  around  the  room;  little 
lead  balls  are  fastened  to  the  skirts  of  their 

[254] 


THE     REAL    TURK 

gowns,  which  float  out  in  charming  billowy  waves 
as  they  dance.  Their  hands  are  held  in  the  air, 
the  palm  of  one  turned  up,  and  the  palm  of  the 
other  turned  down. 

Sweet  music  preludes  the  dance,  breaking  out 
at  intervals  again  and  again  during  the  perform- 
ance. It  comes  from  an  Oriental  reed  instru- 
ment whose  tones  are  somewhat  like  those  of  a 
clarionet,  but  infinitely  more  sweet  and  mourn- 
ful. The  silvery  notes  bubble  out  like  the  song 
from  the  breast  of  a  nightingale.  The  Eastern 
music  is  less  intellectual  and  more  primitively 
natural  than  ours;  it  pierces  the  senses  in  an  al- 
together peculiar  way,  producing  a  dreamy 
ecstasy  of  mind  and  soul  in  which  all  beautiful 
things  seem  possible,  and  troubles  far  away. 

The  Mevlevis  are  a  more  philosophical  and 
cultured  sect  than  the  Rufais  or  Howling  Derv- 
ishes. Among  the  lay  members  of  the  Mevlevis 
are  many  of  the  finest  minds  in  Turkey;  the 
ceremony  of  their  dance  is  only  an  outward  form, 
which  gives  no  indication  to  the  careless  onlooker 
of  their  deep  metaphysical  concepts. 

The  Bektashis*  are  very  liberal  in  their  theol- 

*  See  Chapter  XII. 

[355] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

ogy,  and  welcome  fraternal  relations  with  other 
faiths.  Their  initiates  are  taught  to  restrain  the 
senses  and  to  aspire  toward  spiritual  progress, 
yet  celibacy  is  not  practised  as  among  Christian 
Monks.  They  marry  and  live  together  in  their 
tekes  with  their  Sheik.  The  ceremony  which 
with  them  corresponds  to  the  howling  of  the 
Ruf  ais  and  the  dancing  of  the  Mevlevis  is  a  meet- 
ing of  men  and  women  together  in  spiritual  wor- 
ship— the  only  religious  ceremony  in  Islam  to 
my  knowledge  in  which  the  two  sexes  unite.  The 
unveiling  of  their  women  amidst  the  members 
of  their  own  sect  makes  possible  a  friendship 
between  man  and  woman  which  is  generally 
unknown  in  Mohammedan  countries.  This  of 
itself  would  be  sufficient  foundation  for  the  ac- 
cusation brought  against  them  by  other  Moham- 
medans of  immoral  and  antinomian  practises; 
but  whether  there  is  any  real  foundation  for  this 
report  is  hard  to  tell.  The  character,  earnestness 
and  breadth  of  mind  of  certain  Bektashis  I  have 
known  is  a  testimony  to  the  good  religious  train- 
ing they  received. 

The  dervishes,  as  has  already  been  surmised  by 
the  reader,  correspond  to  the  monastic  orders  of 

[256] 


THE     REAL    TURK 

Christendom,  with  the  exception  that  they  per- 
mit matrimony.  The  word  "dervish"  means  lit- 
erally "sill  of  a  door,"  or  "those  who  beg  from 
door  to  door."  They  are  related  to  the  different 
orders  of  religious  beggars  of  India — the  Yogis, 
Sunyasin,  etc.  In  all  of  the  dervish  orders  the 
aim  is  the  same:  to  reach  a  state  of  ecstasy  in 
which  the  individual  consciousness  is  lost  and 
merged  into  the  Universal  Soul — a  mystic  state 
induced  not  only  by  the  ceremonies  heretofore 
described  but  also  by  drugs,  fasts,  and  periods 
of  meditation.  Like  all  mystics,  the  dervishes 
hold  themselves  superior  to  the  laws  of  their  re- 
ligion, which,  they  say,  are  intended  to  guide  the 
uninitiated.  Hence  they  do  not  observe  the  rules 
of  Islam,  such  as  prayers,  fasting,  and  abstinence 
from  liquor,  except  on  occasions  when  it  is  polite 
to  do  so.  They  recognize  no  spiritual  authority 
but  Allah  himself  speaking  directly  to  their 
souls,  and  take  as  their  motto  the  Sufi  phrase: 
"The  paths  leading  to  God  are  as  many  as  the 
breaths  of  his  creatures."  They  live  in  monas- 
teries which  are  richly  endowed  with  land  and 
money.  A  study  of  their  tenets  would  give  one 
an  entirely  different  idea  of  Islam  from  that  held 

[257] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

by  the  average  Westerner.  The  formal,  hide- 
bound laws  of  this  religion  have  very  little  hold 
upon  those  thoughtful  minds  of  the  East  whose 
influence  is  bound  to  liberalize  and  reform  Islam 
at  no  distant  date. 

A  strange  rite  is  celebrated  by  all  Shiah 
Moslems  on  the  tenth  day  of  the  Mohammedan 
month  Muharrem,  in  memory  of  the  martyrdom 
of  Al-Hussein.  Although  its  ceremonies  have 
become  much  moderated  in  Constantinople,  they 
are  still  quite  terrible  enough  to  make  many  of 
the  spectators — even  men — faint;  in  the  interior 
the  rite  is  conducted  yearly  with  unabated  fury. 
The  fanaticism  and  ecstasy  of  the  Persians  when 
fully  aroused  is  so  great  that  even  the  Turks 
think  it  necessary  to  protect  the  spectators  by  a 
cordon  of  soldiers  armed  with  rifles.  One  must 
understand  that  the  Shiah  sect  look  upon 
Hussein  not  only  as  a  great  saint  and  martyr, 
but  almost  as  a  divinity. 

In  Constantinople,  the  ceremonies  take  place 
yearly  in  the  old  Persian  Hahn  in  Stamboul. 
At  sunset  (or  Turkish  noon)  we  arrived  at  the 
Hahn,  with  a  Kavasse  to  insure  us  admittance, 
just  in  time  to  see  the  ghastly  procession  enter 

[258] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

from  the  street  where  it  had  been  parading.  The 
Hahn  is  a  square  court  open  to  the  sky,  sur- 
rounded by  the  low  bazaars  and  buildings  of  the 
Persians,  and  around  it  the  procession  filed  three 
times. 

As  it  was  passing  us  we  heard  behind  the 
marchers  a  thud,  thud  like  the  sound  of  chains 
against  human  flesh,  and  behold !  there  came  into 
sight  a  group  of  men  who  were  striking  their 
bare  backs  and  shoulders  with  flails  made  of  iron 
chains.  At  each  stroke  they  jumped  with  a 
dancing  motion  into  the  air,  turning  partly 
around  as  they  leaped.  Their  dark-tanned  backs 
were  blue  and  raw  from  the  flagellations. 

Next  came  the  wildest  and  most  disgusting 
part  of  the  procession.  Sixty-two  men  in  white, 
representing  the  sixty-two  Relations,  or  Mar- 
tyrs, who  died  with  Hussein  in  the  battle,  stag- 
gered along  carrying  in  their  hands  long  knives, 
which  they  wielded  about  their  heads  and 
brought  down  every  now  and  then  upon  the 
scalp,  apparently  inflicting  a  severe  wound. 
The  tops  of  their  heads  were  shaved,  and  were 
dripping  with  blood. 

Fortunately  for  our  own  comfort  we  had  been 

[269] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

informed  beforehand  that  most  of  the  blood  was 
sheep's  blood,  smeared  on  before  the  procession 
began,  and  that  only  a  few  of  the  men  were  so 
fanatical  as  to  cut  themselves,  many  of  them 
being  hired  for  the  occasion. 

The  procession  withdrew,  and  after  a  short 
pause  it  returned  with  a  new  set  of  men  and  re- 
peated the  performance.  This  continued  for 
several  hours.  As  each  procession  came  in  it 
was  met  by  an  imam  who  chanted  verses  in 
praise  of  Hassan  and  Hussein,  to  which  the  per- 
formers responded. 

This  ghastly  rite  is  observed  yearly  in  every 
Persian  city  and  town,  not  only  in  Persia,  but  in 
Turkestan  and  India,  and  although  it  serves  to 
refresh  in  the  mind  of  the  Persian  his  bitter 
hatred  of  the  Sunni  Moslems,  who  were  respon- 
sible for  the  death  of  Hussein,  the  Turks,  who 
belong  to  the  latter  sect,  allow  and  witness,  much 
to  their  credit,  the  performance  of  this  rite,  the 
whole  spirit  of  which  is  antagonistic  to  them. 

During  the  month  of  Ramazan  the  followers 
of  Mohammed  are  expected  to  observe  a  strict 
fast  from  dawn  until  sunset.  Owing  to  the 

[260] 


THE     REAL    TURK 

Turkish  year's  being  lunar,  this  month  comes  at 
a  different  time  each  year;  and  when  it  occurs 
during  the  summer  months  the  fast  is  a  great 
hardship. 

Among  earnest  Mohammadans  the  wealthy 
and  educated  can  hardly  be  reckoned,  for  their 
contact  with  the  West  has  taken  away  their  taste 
for  the  rigorous  duties  of  Islam.  The  lower 
classes,  however,  obey  the  rules  of  their  religion, 
no  matter  how  irksome  they  may  be.  There  is 
something  admirable  about  the  sight  of  the  zeal- 
ous worshippers  going  through  their  prayers, 
even  on  a  crowded  boat  of  the  Bosphorus — 
kneeling  down  and  touching  the  head  to  the 
floor  a  certain  number  of  times,  then  rising  and 
facing  the  east  and  then  prostrating  themselves 
again  as  they  repeat  their  formulas  and  the 
ninety-nine  names  of  God.  Think  of  the  Turk- 
ish workmen  laboring  all  day  in  the  hot  sun  with- 
out food  or  drink!  These  very  men  upon  whom 
the  conditions  imposed  by  Ramazan  fall  the 
hardest  observe  them  the  most  strictly.  The 
hamal  who  carries  your  baggage  through  the 
streets  on  his  back,  loaded  down  at  times  with  a 
weight  which  four  ordinary  men  could  hardly 

[261] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

lift  from  the  ground — the  kayikji  who  rows  you 
against  the  strenuous  current  of  the  Bosphorus 
— the  ishji  who  works  on  the  streets  and  build- 
ings— all  go  through  the  day's  work  handicapped 
not  only  by  lack  of  food  and  drink  but  by  lack 
of  sleep  the  night  before,  for  it  is  in  the  night 
that  they  have  to  take  their  meals. 

One  afternoon  I  hired  a  boat  at  about  five 
o'clock  to  take  a  row  on  the  Bosphorus.  (In 
these  boats  you  never  have  the  privilege  of  going 
out  rowing  alone — you  must  take  a  kayikji  with 
you  and  let  him  sit  in  the  stern,  smoking  a  cig- 
arette and  smiling  inwardly  at  your  clumsy  at- 
tempts to  manipulate  the  long,  weighted  oars 
which  always  slip  off  their  thole  pins  just  at  the 
wrong  moment.)  After  I  had  been  rowing  for 
half  an  hour,  the  kayikji  asked  me  by  signs 
helped  out  with  a  little  Turkish  and  broken 
French  where  I  wished  to  land.  I  shook  my 
head,  intimating  that  I  did  not  wish  to  land  at 
all — the  Bosphorus  was  growing  more  and  more 
beautiful  under  the  sunset  light,  and  I  was  be- 
ginning to  enjoy  the  rowing.  In  a  little  while 
he  inquired  again  very  vigorously  whether  I 
wanted  to  land.  I  shook  my  head  again;  five 

[262] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

minutes  later  and  the  operation  was  repeated. 
I  was  beginning  to  get  angry — why  should  the 
boatman,  who  was  making  his  money  by  the  hour, 
be  so  eager  to  land?  Then  suddenly  it  flashed 
across  my  mind  that  the  sunset  gun  had  sounded 
some  half  hour  before,  and  that  the  poor  fellow 
was  inwardly  groaning  at  my  stupidity  in  keep- 
ing him  from  his  long-anticipated  meal.  I  let 
him  turn  in  toward  shore,  and  when  we  got 
there,  all  the  other  boatmen  had  disappeared — 
gone  to  the  eating  house  to  make  up  for  lost 
time! 

Although  Ramazan  is  a  fast  in  one  sense,  in 
another  it  is  not,  because  during  the  period  be- 
tween sunset  and  sunrise  "the  faithful"  get  three 
square  meals.  In  order  to  make  sure  of  awaken- 
ing for  their  second  and  third  meals,  which  are 
taken  at  midnight  and  just  before  sunrise,  they 
have  a  drum  beaten  outside  their  windows. 
Many .  a  night  I  have  been  awakened  by  the 
drumming  in  the  distance,  perhaps  with  a  horn 
of  classic  style  thrown  in. 

One  would  imagine  that  after  being  up  half 
the  night  and  going  without  food  in  the  daytime 
for  a  few  weeks  a  Turk  would  become  irritable 

[263] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

and  cross;  but  there  seemed  to  be  just  the  same 
genial  good  nature  on  most  of  the  faces,  and  the 
same  gentleness  of  behavior.  Only  one  street 
fight  did  I  see  during  Ramazan,  and  that  was 
stopped  by  a  Turkish  policeman  before  one  of 
the  hamals  could  succeed  in  his  attempts  to  pull 
out  the  beard  of  the  other,  or  the  latter  could 
manage  to  choke  the  first. 

During  Ramazan  the  city  of  Constantinople 
is  alive  at  night.  Usually  the  Turk  regulates  his 
day  by  the  sun,  and  at  sunset,  his  noon,  retires 
from  active  life  to  the  bosom  of  his  family.  It  is 
only  during  this  one  month  that  he  turns  night 
into  day,  and  then  he  does  it  in  a  way  which  is 
interesting  enough. 

All  night  long  the  few  streets  around  which 
center  the  native  amusements  are  thronged  with 
fezzes.  In  every  coffee-shop  (some  are  little 
larger  than  a  huge  dry-goods  box)  are  crowds 
drinking  coffee,  smoking  nargliilees,  and  playing 
backgammon.  Perched  on  a  shelf  in  one  corner, 
half  way  up  from  the  floor,  is  the  orchestra, 
discoursing  sweet  (?)  Turkish  melodies.  The 
men  drink  in  silence.  There  is  no  brawling,  no 
confusion — for  their  beverage  does  not  deprive 

[264] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

them  of  their  self-control,  but  rather  increases 
their  stolid  and  comfortable  enjoyment  of 
life. 

Let  us  enter  one  of  the  larger  and  better-class 
shops,  not  because  we  are  ashamed  to  associate 
with  the  Turkish  soldiers,  hamals  and  workmen 
in  the  tiny  places,  but  because  we  want  the 
proper  privacy  for  our  experiment — we  are 
going  to  try  a  narghilee.  A  servant  brings  us 
one  of  these  water-pipes  filled  with  tobacco,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  he  appears  with  live  coals,  which 
he  places  on  top  of  the  tobacco.  It  requires  a 
huge  amount  of  puffing  and  breathing  to  get  the 
thing  started,  for  you  cannot  smoke  a  narghilee 
with  the  lips  but  must  inhale  it,  and  violently  at 
first,  if  you  do  not  want  the  coals  to  go  out. 
Once  you  have  got  the  narghilee  fairly  lighted, 
it  becomes  more  pleasant — you  can  recline  com- 
fortably in  the  cushions  and  take  a  puff  whenever 
you  feel  inclined,  sipping  the  coffee  meanwhile, 
and  listening  to  the  musical  click,  click  of  the 
backgammon  games  going  on  around.  A  subtle 
feeling  of  laziness  and  content  creeps  over 
you,  and  you  are  in  a  fair  way  to  become  an 
Oriental. 

.-i  [  265  ] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

The  gaieties  of  evening  life  are  for  the  Mo- 
hammedan all  concentrated  in  the  one  month.  It 
is  then  that  he  goes  to  the  theatre  and  strolls 
along  the  brilliantly-lighted  streets  in  search 
of  amusement.  One  of  the  most  interesting  of 
Turkish  amusements  is  the  Carageuse — a  sort  of 
Punch  and  Judy  show  which  is  centuries  old,  the 
primitive  theatre  of  the  Turks.  The  other 
theatres  in  Stamboul  are  cheap  melodramas,  in 
which  the  parts  are  usually  taken  by  Armenians, 
as  the  Turkish  custom  would  of  course  prohibit 
Mohammedan  women  from  appearing  on  the 
stage.  On  these  nights,  all  the  theatres  are  doing 
business  in  full  force,  being  crowded  to  the  doors 
with  Turkish  laborers  and  soldiers. 

Even  here,  in  the  midst  of  Mohammedan  life, 
is  found  the  European  invasion  in  the  shape  of 
cinemetographs,  penny-in-the-slot  machines,  and 
shooting  galleries,  at  which  the  soldiers  delight 
to  linger.  The  little  eating-shops  are  open,  if 
one  wants  refreshments — sutlatch,  mahalabi, 
ekmekadaif,  etc. 

But  at  last  the  streets  that  have  been  brilliantly 
lighted  for  four  weeks  are  plunged  into  darkness 
for  another  year.  Bayram  begins  at  the  end  of 

[  266  ] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

Ramazan,  and  every  decent  Mohammedan 
stays  at  home  feasting;  and  theatres,  shooting 
galleries  and  all  are  deserted  and  closed  up. 

On  the  evening  of  the  first  day  in  which  the 
new  moon  is  seen,  Bayram  is  announced  by  a  dis- 
charge of  artillery.  Sometimes,  however,  the 
moon  is  kept  back  a  few  days  at  the  sultan's  re- 
quest— for  it  is  the  sultan's  custom  at  Bayram  to 
give  presents  of  money  to  his  higher  officials,  and 
sometimes  it  happens  that  the  treasury  is  empty, 
and  several  days  are  required  for  raising  the 
necessary  sums.  During  such  negotiations  the 
poor  moon  is  obliged  to  stay  in  hiding;  but  as 
soon  as  the  money  is  raised,  it  is  immediately  dis- 
covered, and  everybody  joyfully  hails  the  com- 
mencement of  Bayram. 

So  Ramazan  ends  with  great  feasting  and 
jollification,  and  the  pious  follower  of  Islam  once 
more  returns  to  his  normal  habits  of  eating. 
Unnecessary  as  such  a  fast  may  be,  there  is  an 
example  of  religious  devotion  and  unselfishness 
in  its  faithful  observance  which  should  command 
the  respect  of  the  world. 


[267] 


* 
FAITH  HEALING  IN  THE  ORIENT 


CHAPTER  XIV 
FAITH  HEALING  IN  THE  ORIENT 

Doctors  look  askance  at  all  forms  of  healing 
that  are  not  based  upon  the  study  of  materia 
medica.  The  good  old  orthodox  method  of 
drugs  and  the  surgeon's  knife  appears  to  them 
the  divinely-appointed  way  of  curing  disease. 
Yet  thousands  of  cures  wrought  in  this  very 
country  by  means  of  suggestion  under  one  form 
or  another  have  called  the  attention  of  the  civil- 
ized world  to  the  practise  of  faith  healing,  which 
has  been  in  vogue  among  primitive  peoples  ever 
since  the  dawn  of  history.  Even  the  medical 
profession  goes  so  far  as  to  grant  that  nervous 
affections  may  be  cured  in  this  way — and  who 
shall  say  just  where  the  limit  of  possibility  lies? 
At  any  rate,  faith  healing  has  become  legitima- 
tized sufficiently  to  arouse  a  real  interest,  under 
whatever  form  and  in  whatever  country  it  is 
practiced. 

In  primitive  countries  like  Turkey,  the  peas- 
ants, in  the  absence  of  real  medical  aid,  resort  to 

[271] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

herbs,  magic,  and  faith  healing.  One  of  the  most 
common  forms  of  the  latter  (already  mentioned) 
is  that  practised  at  the  monasteries  of  the  Howl- 
ing Dervishes,  where  cures  are  wrought  by  the 
laying  on  of  hands  at  the  close  of  the  weekly  re- 
ligious ceremony.  Numerous  sick  people  sit 
about  the  floor  as  spectators,  waiting  for  the  mo- 
ment of  healing.  Doubtless  the  extremely  emo- 
tional performance  serves  to  increase  their  faith 
or  suggestibility,  so  that  they  are  in  a  proper 
frame  of  mind  to  be  healed  when,  at  the  end  of 
the  prayers,  the  sheik,  or  holy  man  of  the  order, 
steps  forward  and  lays  his  hands  upon  each  in- 
valid in  turn,  stroking  the  affected  parts  and 
looking  fixedly  into  the  patient's  eyes.  As  in 
healing  shrines  of  the  Catholic  Church,  numerous 
crutches  hung  about  the  walls  of  the  teke  bear 
witness  to  previous  cures.  After  the  adults  have 
been  treated,  infants  are  brought  forward  and 
laid  in  a  row  upon  the  floor,  face  upward.  The 
sheik  starts  at  one  end  and  steps  tenderly  with 
stockinged  feet  upon  the  body  of  each  child, 
walking  across  the  row  of  human  stepping-stones 
until  the  last  infant  has  received  this  peculiar 
blessing.  Strangely  enough,  the  children  do  not 

[272] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

seem  to  be  at  all  injured  by  such  a  performance, 
which  is  considered  an  excellent  remedy  for  in- 
fant ills. 

Many  bring  bottles  of  water  for  the  sheik  to 
bless,  and  carry  them  home  to  other  invalids  who 
are  too  sick  to  be  brought  out.  This  use  of  holy 
water  as  a  magic  remedy  is  very  ancient.  There 
is  the  well-known  story  in  Acts  of  the  man  healed 
by  Peter  at  the  pool  of  Bethsaida — a  pool  which 
was  frequented  by  invalids  because  of  its  healing 
qualities.  One  finds  similar  sacred  springs  today 
all  over  the  Orient.  Originating  in  the  religious 
beliefs  of  the  ancient  Syrians,  they  became 
grafted  upon  Judaism,  Christianity  and  Mo- 
hammedanism, so  that  today  you  may  find  ad- 
herents of  all  three  of  these  religions  worshipping 
at  the  same  holy  well  or  spring.  The  Greeks  es- 
pecially cherish  these  sacred  waters  with  venera- 
tion; and  many  a  shrine  the  wayfarer  passes 
which  has  its  pictures  of  the  saints  and  its  candles 
burning  by  the  holy  stream.  Usually  a  spring 
is  dedicated  to  some  particular  saint  or  hermit  of 
former  centuries  who  passed  his  life  in  its  vicinity 
and  drank  from  it — so  that  the  magical  virtue  of 
a  spring  is  due  to  the  holiness  of  the  saint  who 

[273] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

presides  over  it.  The  Mohammedans  are  not  at 
all  loath  to  avail  themselves  of  the  sanctity  of  a 
Christian  spring  for  healing,  and  vice  versa,  and 
the  Greeks  will  sometimes  say  their  prayers  at 
a  Mohammedan  shrine — an  exchange  of  courte- 
sies pleasing  in  its  naivete. 

Frequently  bits  of  rags  are  seen  tied  to  the 
grating  or  to  a  tree  near  a  sacred  tomb  to  which 
Mohammedans  have  come  to  pray  for  healing,  or 
wealth,  or  happiness  in  affairs  of  the  heart.  They 
leave  the  rags  so  that  the  holy  man  will  not  forget 
them  and  their  petitions — a  good  plan,  for  the 
Oriental  climate,  as  we  have  seen,  makes  one  very 
forgetful,  and  then,  too,  the  saint  is  burdened 
with  many  applications  for  his  favor.  If  the 
suppliants'  prayers  are  answered,  they  burn  a 
candle  at  the  tomb,  or  give  an  offering  of  olive  oil 
to  the  mosque  for  the  little  lamps;  if  rich,  they 
sacrifice  a  sheep. 

In  the  minds  of  the  Orientals  healing  is  associ- 
ated with  holiness;  hence  many  sheiks  can  heal 
by  prayer  or  by  touching  and  blowing.  The  con- 
nection between  spiritual  life  and  power  to  cure 
is  exemplified  in  the  records  of  the  cures  wrought 
by  Christ,  which  were  accepted  as  proof  of  his 

[274] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

spirituality.  Once  his  fame  became  established, 
hundreds  flocked  to  him  as  he  passed  from  village 
to  village.  The  Orientals  are  strong  in  the  qual- 
ity of  faith,  having  developed  little  ability  or  in- 
terest in  the  process  of  analysis. 

Charms  and  amulets  are  supposed  to  ward  off 
disease,  which  to  the  Oriental  is  a  kind  of  evil 
charm  that  can  be  kept  away  or  disrupted  by 
the  proper  formulas,  and  imams  and  professional 
healers  are  often  visited  for  the  procuring  of 
remedies.  A  girl  who  had  suffered  from  the 
withering  of  the  muscles  of  her  arm,  so  that  it 
had  become  useless,  went  to  an  imam  for  help. 
He  gave  her  some  syrup-water  and  sugar  and 
told  her  to  pour  some  of  it  early  every  morning, 
not  on  her  arm,  as  one  might  suppose,  but  upon 
the  grave  of  her  father,  and  to  come  away  with- 
out looking  back.  Another  woman,  of  the  in- 
telligent class,  was  told  to  take  dust  from  her 
room  and  throw  it  out  of  the  window;  she  also 
read  a  verse  of  the  Koran  over  a  glass  of  water 
which  she  took  out  of  doors  in  the  dark  and 
threw  upon  the  ground  with  the  words:  "Take 
my  disease  and  give  me  back  my  health!" 

These  forms  of  magic  are  as  old  as  the  hills. 

[275] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

Water  is  most  frequently  used  as  a  remedy,  for 
because  of  its  fluent  nature  it  easily  lends  itself 
to  the  idea  of  carrying  away  disease  and  sin 
— hence  the  origin  of  ablutions  and  ceremonies 
with  water  in  all  religions.  An  animal,  also,  may 
be  made  the  repository  of  the  undesirable  and 
evil  tenant — as  the  scapegoats  of  ancient  Israel, 
and  the  swine  into  which  the  evil  spirits  from  the 
madman  entered  at  the  command  of  Christ. 

Professional  healers  mulct  the  people  of  large 
sums;  in  Constantinople  they  have  many  shops, 
which  the  wealthier  women  frequent,  paying  sev- 
eral pounds — sometimes  as  much  as  fifty  dollars 
— to  buy  attar  of  roses  as  a  gift  to  the  healing 
spirit.  The  magic  doctor  knows  how  to  play 
upon  the  gullibility  of  his  patients,  and  keeps 
drawing  money  from  them  under  one  pretext  or 
another  until  often  they  have  to  borrow  in  the 
vain  pursuit  of  health  by  means  of  incense  and 
prayers.  The  government  is  trying  to  stop  this 
kind  of  medical  graft. 

Once  in  a  while  a  man  not  a  priest  will  get  a 
reputation  for  healing  by  prayers  and  magnetic 
touch.  There  was  lately  in  Stamboul  a  custom- 
house official  whose  mere  touch  sufficed  to  heal, 

[276] 


i 

II 

8.3 


.2  -at 

^   A 

S     O 


THE     REAL     TURK 

and  people  flocked  by  dozens  to  him.  At  first  he 
used  to  pray  over  each  one,  but  later  he  had  time 
only  to  ask  the  trouble  and  touch  the  affected 
part.  Many  of  his  patients  recovered. 

Chaldean  magic  has  maintained  its  hold  upon 
the  peoples  of  the  Levant,  whatever  their  race  or 
religion,  for  thousands  of  years ;  amulets,  charms 
and  love  philters  are  used  today  by  Mo- 
hammedans, Jews  and  Christians  just  as  they 
were  used  by  the  ancient  Babylonians,  and  other 
customs  have  survived  as  religious  under-strata. 
In  addition  to  the  springs  already  mentioned, 
certain  hills  and  groves  are  held  sacred  by  Jews, 
Christians  and  Mohammedans  alike — a  survival 
from  the  religion  of  the  ancient  Syrians,  who 
worshipped  hills,  groves,  and  springs. 

There  is  a  high  hill  at  the  northern  end  of  the 
Bosphorus  which  commands  a  magnificent  view 
of  the  surrounding  country — one  of  the  few  hills 
from  which  one  can  see  both  the  Marmora  and 
the  Black  Sea.  The  Mohammedans  call  it  the 
"Mountain  of  Joshua,"  and  believe  that  the  He- 
brew conqueror,  after  he  had  gained  possession 
of  the  Promised  Land,  was  granted  the  priv- 
ilege of  living,  dying,  and  being  buried  here; 

[277] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

they  point  to  a  peculiar  mound  some  forty  feet 
in  length  which  they  say  is  his  grave.  The  same 
mountain  was  sacred  to  the  ancient  Greeks,  who 
called  it  the  Bed  of  Hercules,  and  doubtless  was 
sacred  to  the  Phoenicians  in  even  earlier  days. 

Thus  a  locality  may  preserve  its  legendary 
holiness  through  successive  conquests  and  various 
religions. 

At  Bardazag,  near  ancient  Nicea,  I  was  shown 
a  hillside  with  a  sacred  grove  upon  it,  where  the 
Armenian  Christians  still  offer  living  sacrifices 
if  they  meet  with  special  good  fortune — a  dove 
or  a  chicken  is  used  by  the  poor,  fat  sheep  by  the 
rich.  This,  too,  is  a  relic  of  the  religion  of  the 
Syrians. 

In  the  mountains  not  far  away  is  another 
sacred  grove  from  which  a  spring  bubbles  forth, 
making  the  place  doubly  sacred.  It  seems  that 
two  men  less  superstitious  than  their  neighbors 
cast  longing  eyes  upon  these  trees,  and  decided 
to  cut  some  of  them  down  for  firewood,  which 
was  very  scarce  upon  the  mountain.  The  neigh- 
bors did  their  best  to  dissuade  them  from  this 
sacrilege,  but  without  avail.  They  had  already 
chopped  down  one  grand  old  tree,  and  had  an- 

[278] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

other  chopped  nearly  through  and  just  ready  to 
fall,  when  a  sudden  burst  of  wind  caught  and 
felled  it,  whirling  it  around  in  such  a  way  that 
both  of  the  men  were  struck  before  they  had  time 
to  escape  and  crushed  into  lifeless  masses.  The 
event,  which  actually  happened  a  few  years  ago, 
is  told  by  the  natives,  who  never  fail  to  point  the 
spot  out  to  passers-by;  the  story  will  be  handed 
down  to  their  children  and  children's  children, 
and  all  the  wisdom  of  the  ages  could  not  persuade 
one  of  those  mountaineers  to  gather  firewood  in 
that  sacred  grove. 

The  Mohammedans  are  naturally  very  super- 
stitious. Their  daily  life  is  surrounded  with  a 
thousand  beliefs  and  practices  which  have  their 
origin  in  ignorance  and  fear.  The  most  potent 
superstition  among  them  is  belief  in  the  "Evil 
Eye:"  if  any  misfortune  occurs,  they  think  it  is 
because  someone  has  cast  an  "evil  eye"  on  the 
victim.  Blue-eyed  people  they  consider  espe- 
cially dangerous,  and  hence  European  travellers 
are  feared  above  all  other  people,  if,  in  addition  to 
having  blue  eyes,  they  persist  in  gazing  admir- 
ingly at  a  pretty  Turkish  child  and  praising  its 
beauty — a  most  dangerous  thing  in  the  eyes  of 

[279] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

the  Turk,  who  has  the  same  dread  of  praising 
his  possessions  that  we  have  of  boasting  of  our 
health  or  good  fortune  without  knocking  on 
wood.  If  anything  belonging  to  a  Turk  is  in- 
advertently praised,  he  wards  off  ill  effect  by  say- 
ing "Mashallah"  (The  praise  be  to  God).  The 
Turkish  woman,  if  she  wishes  to  admire  a  child, 
says  not  "How  pretty,"  but  simply  "Mashallah! 
Mashallah !"  in  sympathetic  tones.  Here  at 
least  she  shows  common  sense! 

The  Turk  adopts  various  means  to  avert  the 
"evil  eye."  Blue  beads,  bits  of  coral,  and  cloves 
of  garlic  sewed  in  silk  are  tied  to  the  caps  or  hung 
around  the  necks  of  children;  blue  glass  bracelets 
are  frequently  worn,  and  when  they  get  broken, 
it  is  believed  that  some  "evil  eye"  has  been  luckily 
warded  off  from  the  wearer ;  strings  of  blue  beads 
are  hung  around  the  necks  of  all  horses,  cows  and 
donkeys  belonging  to  Turks,  for  even  animals 
are  subject  to  the  "evil  eye." 

Great  confidence  is  placed  in  the  efficacy  of 
talismans,  in  which  every  letter  of  the  alphabet 
has  a  numerical  value.  In  accordance  with  the 
cabalistic  lore,  words  are  changed  into  their  nu- 
merical value  for  the  purpose  of  divination;  and 

[280] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

these  values  are  multiplied  and  divided,  squared 
and  cubed,  added  and  subtracted,  by  regular 
rules  and  the  result,  if  odd,  is  lucky;  if  even,  un- 
lucky. Certain  magic  phrases  have  a  special 
power  because  of  the  numerical  value  of  the  let- 
ters comprising  them.  Such  phrases,  written  out 
by  magicians  under  proper  astrological  condi- 
tions, are  worn  about  the  body  as  charms. 

In  spite  of  all  these  superstitious  fears,  when 
Death  himself  approaches  he  finds  the  Turk 
completely  resigned  to  the  will  of  Allah,  cringing 
not  from  the  final  act  of  Destiny,  but  meeting 
his  fate  with  the  divine  calm  of  the  Moslem 
spirit.  The  thought  of  death  and  of  the  life  be- 
yond enters  much  more  into  the  Orientals'  minds 
than  it  does  into  our  own:  to  them  this  earthly 
existence  is  but  a  shadow  of  reality — a  brief 
camping  out — and  when  the  summons  comes, 
they  are  quite  ready  for  the  soul  to  strike  its  tent 
and  start  its  journey  to  its  permanent  home. 
Death  is  called  by  poetic  names,  such  as  the 
"Cupbearer  of  the  Sphere." 

The  Mohammedans  believe  vividly  in  the  joys 
of  Paradise,  which  are  promised  to  every  true  be- 
liever: eighty  houris,  pure  and  charming  as  the 

[281] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

spring  flower,  shall  wait  upon  him,  and  he  shall 
eat  and  drink  without  satiety.  Hence  excessive 
sorrow  for  the  dead  is  considered  sinful.  The 
Turk  does  not  wear  mourning  nor  change  his 
mode  of  life  at  the  death  of  a  relative.  For  his 
departed  parents  he  will  invoke  the  blessings  of 
Allah,  and  for  the  forgiveness  of  their  sins  he 
will  pray  daily.  Like  the  Catholics,  the  Moham- 
medans consider  alms  and  prayers  to  be  most 
beneficial  to  the  souls  of  the  departed. 

Turkish  cemeteries  are  much  more  charming 
and  picturesque  than  our  own,  owing  to  the  selec- 
tion of  hillsides  for  the  sites,  and  to  the  planting 
of  Cyprus  trees  by  each  grave  to  protect  the  soul 
from  evil  influences.  These  beautiful  trees,  with 
their  dark  green  pyramids  of  color,  contrast  ex- 
quisitely with  the  tender  blue  of  the  Oriental  sky. 
The  Turks  love  to  come  and  sit  in  the  ceme- 
teries, and  they  allow  the  village  sheep  to  graze 
in  them.  Here  one  does  not  feel  the  sadness  or 
somberness  of  death,  but  only  its  beautiful  peace. 
The  tombstones  are  painted  in  bright  colors — 
blue,  or  green,  or  black,  or  red,  with  raised 
letters  in  gilt,  and  are  surmounted  by  turbans  in 
stone.  The  tombs  of  saints  are  often  surrounded 

[282] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

by  a  gilt  cage-like  structure,  to  which  the  people 
tie  bits  of  rags  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  some 
blessing  from  the  departed  spirit.  One  of  the 
largest  cemeteries  in  the  world  is  in  Scutari,  the 
Asiatic  suburb  of  Constantinople;  and  one  of 
the  most  charming  is  on  the  heights  of  Roumeli 
Hissar,  just  above  Robert  College,  where  one 
can  sit  and  dream  as  he  looks  up  the  fair  waters 
of  the  Bosphorus  and  across  to  the  hills  of  Asia. 
The  same  simplicity  and  peace  which  rules  the 
life  of  the  Turk  reigns  over  the  sanctuary  to 
which  Death  calls  him. 


[283] 


BROTHERHOOD  OF  EAST  AND  WEST 


CHAPTER  XV 
BROTHERHOOD  OF  EAST  AND  WEST 

Since  it  does  not  seem  that  there  is  much  pos- 
sibility of  converting  Islam  to  Christianity,  what 
is  to  be  the  attitude  of  Americans  toward  Mo- 
hammedanism and  the  Turk?  One  of  hostility 
or  of  brotherhood? 

While  the  Turk  does  not  care  to  adopt  our 
religion  and  our  civilization  in  its  entirety,  he 
welcomes  the  friendship  of  Christians,  is  always 
willing  to  look  into  the  tenets  of  Christianity, 
and  admires  Western  education  above  all  other 
systems  of  learning.  Throughout  Turkey 
American  schools  are  graduating  men  and 
women  of  trained  minds.  And  through  educa- 
tion and  helpfulness,  more  ideal  than  mere  prose- 
lyting, America  comes  into  closer  contact  with 
Turkey  than  does  any  other  country. 

Ideals  of  world  peace  and  the  brotherhood  of 
man  are  rapidly  growing  in  this  age  of  inter- 
nationalism. As  scientific  and  industrial  prog- 
ress was  the  keynote,  of  the  nineteenth  century, 

[287] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

so  internationalism  bids  fair  to  be  the  dominant 
note  of  the  twentieth  century.  Many  look  for- 
ward to  the  time  when  the  energies  of  man,  no 
longer  taken  up  with  national  rivalries  and  wars, 
can  be  turned  to  the  improvement  of  the  human 
race  and  the  building  up  of  a  world  culture  which 
will  never  after  be  destroyed  by  hand  of  man. 
This  will  be  the  glorious  heritage  of  the  human 
race — the  Golden  Age  of  man,  which  every  re- 
ligion anticipates,  and  of  which  every  social 
reformer  has  dreamed. 

But  this  Age  can  never  come  until  the  ends  of 
the  world  have  touched,  and  the  East  and  the 
West  have  embraced  as  brothers.  The  civiliza- 
tion of  Europe  and  America  is  identical,  and 
when  we  dream  of  a  world  unity,  we  stop  short 
with  that.  We  do  not  take  the  East  into  con- 
sideration, for  it  is  far  away  and  outside  the  pale 
of  our  knowledge  and  familiarity ;  its  civilization, 
furthermore,  is  so  different  from  our  own  that 
we  see  no  possibility  of  union  with  it  save  by  con- 
quest and  absorption  on  our  part.  In  other 
words,  the  ordinary  Western  attitude  toward  the 
Orient  is  one  of  contempt. 

That  there  can  never  be  any  permanent  peace 

[288] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

nor  hearty  union  on  such  a  one-sided  basis  must 
be  apparent,  however,  to  any  person  who  has 
studied  the  Eastern  question.  England  is  already 
full  of  anxiety  over  her  Indian  possessions,  and 
Egypt  is  clamoring  for  liberty.  China  is  awak- 
ening, a  vast  nation  of  400,000,000  people,  and 
refuses  to  be  divided  up  or  owned  by  Europe. 
Turkey  and  Persia,  though  weak  compared  to 
European  nations,  would  never  tamely  submit 
to  absorption  by  them.  Japan  has  established 
herself  on  a  par  with  Western  nations,  thus 
demonstrating  that  the  East  is  not  effete,  and 
that  it  cannot  be  swallowed  up  by  Europe. 

The  wonderful  victories  of  the  Japanese  over  a 
great  world  power  of  the  West  won  a  new  re- 
spect for  the  East;  their  perfect  organization  and 
unselfish  devotion  to  their  country  proved  that 
Buddhism  could  produce  virtues  as  well  as 
Christianity. 

One  little  realizes  what  a  vast  deal  the  Con- 
cord Sage  accomplished  towards  bringing  Orien- 
tal religion  near  to  American  thought.  His 
philosophy  of  transcendentalism  is  but  a  reflec- 
tiori  of  Eastern  wisdom.  He  was  a  deep  student 
of  the  Hindu  sacred  texts  and  the  Persian  Sufi 

[289] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

poets.  He  possessed  the  second  translation  of 
the  Bhagavad-Gita  that  was  introduced  into  this 
country  and  his  poem  "The  Brahn"  is  a  para- 
phrase of  a  passage  from  the  Upanishads.  The 
Concord  school,  consisting  of  Emerson,  Thoreau 
and  Alcott,  were  all  interested  in  these  Hindu 
writings — nay,  more  than  interested — they  were 
influenced  by  them.  One  who  is  thoroughly  fa- 
miliar with  the  Hindu  teachings  and  the  teach- 
ings of  Emerson  can  trace  the  parallelism. 

The  result  has  been  that  Emerson  has  helped 
make  the  West  familiar  with  the  doctrines  of 
renunciation  and  of  pantheism — of  the  pervad- 
ing Diety,  impersonal  and  ever-creative.  From 
his  writings  there  has  spread  a  wide  influence 
over  the  cultured  thought  of  America,  until  the 
Eastern  wisdom  no  longer  seems  peculiar  or 
paganistic.  The  intellects  which  are  brought  in 
contact  with  Oriental  religions  are  ready  to  ad- 
mit their  beauties. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  same  prep- 
aration for  tolerance  is  not  needed  in  the  Orient, 
for  Oriental  religions  by  their  very  composition 
are  tolerant  of  truth  under  other  forms  than  their 
own.  The  East  is  quite  ready  to  admit  the 

[290] 


THE    REAL     TURK 

beauties  of  Christianity  and  to  welcome  it  as  a 
fraternal  religion,  though  not  as  a  conquering 
one.  If  Christianity  contains  all  the  truth,  as  its 
loyal  followers  believe,  why  will  they  not  have 
faith  that  in  such  a  fraternal  relation,  seeking 
not  absorption  but  only  friendly  unity,  the  truth 
will  prevail  in  its  own  time  and  bring  all  to  its 
level? 

In  the  way  of  custom  and  habits  of  living  the 
East  of  course  differs  fundamentally  from  the 
West;  but  here  it  is  willing  to  learn,  and  is 
quickly  becoming  convinced  that  our  standard 
of  living  is  the  best.  The  chief  thing  that  pre- 
vents Oriental  nations  at  present  from  adopting 
at  once  the  Western  improvements  is  religious 
prejudice.  Customs  in  every  land  tend  to  be- 
come crystallized  and  to  wear  the  stamp  of  re- 
ligion upon  them,  making  a  change  seem  not 
only  disloyal  but  sacrilegious  as  well. 

This  prejudice  must  in  time  break  down,  how- 
ever, and  it  is  already  fast  disappearing  under 
the  influence  of  education.  The  East  is  forced 
to  acknowledge  that  the  Western  education  is 
the  better  in  many  ways.  Physics,  chemistry, 
applied  mechanics — all  such  exact  sciences  do 

[291] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

more  than  ages  of  argument  to  sweep  away  mis- 
understandings and  racial  conservatism.  It  is 
remarkable  how  much  a  common  education  will 
do  to  break  down  barriers  of  race  and  religion. 
Greeks,  Turks,  Bulgarians,  Persians,  and 
Egyptians  who  have  received  a  European  uni- 
versity education  approach  each  other  in  their 
mental  attitudes,  and  think  in  much  the  same 
ways.  Dress  them  all  in  the  same  clothes  and 
converse  with  them,  and  you  will  not  realize  that 
they  represent  several  very  different  races,  be- 
cause they  have  really  left  the  confines  of  race 
and  entered  into  a  world  culture  which  is  above 
race.  Yet  the  uneducated  of  these  races  are  as 
different  and  as  antagonistic  as  ever. 

In  the  same  way  a  Buddhist,  a  Confucian,  a 
Mohammedan,  a  Jew  and  a  Christian,  when  they 
have  completed  the  higher  education,  no  longer 
quarrel  over  differences  of  religion.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  have  but  few,  although  out  of  loy- 
alty they  may  still  call  themselves  Buddhist, 
Confucian,  Mohammedan,  Jew  and  Christian — 
for  names  and  other  outward  forms  are  the  last 
to  disappear,  lingering  long  after  essential  dif- 
ferences have  vanished.  They  are  really  mem- 

[292] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

bers  of  a  common  brotherhood — fellow  alumni 
of  the  Alma  Mater  of  the  Twentieth  Century — 
and  each  one  is  an  active  agent,  a  little  center  in 
himself,  for  spreading  world  culture  in  his  own 
country. 

Let  Young  China,  Young  Japan,  Young 
Persia  and  Young  Turkey  partake  of  modern 
education,  and  they  will  no  longer  be  opposed  to 
the  admission  of  Western  ideas  and  improve- 
ments into  their  country.  They  will  welcome 
progress  and  recognize  truth,  in  whatever  form 
it  may  masquerade.  Each  one  of  them  will  be  a 
link  in  an  endless  chain,  which  will  grow  until 
it  finally  encircles  the  whole  world. 

The  time  has  been  when  the  East  has  scorned 
the  Western  progress  as  much  as  the  West  has 
scorned  the  Eastern  lack  of  progress — and  has 
shut  its  doors  against  all  innovations;  but  this  at- 
titude is  rapidly  changing  to  one  of  respect  and 
desire  for  Western  institutions.  Japan  has 
tried  them  out  and  proved  their  values.  The  ex- 
ample is  not  lost  upon  the  other  Oriental  na- 
tions. China  has  seen  the  vision  and  is  striving 
for  improvement.  Edward  Ross,  who  has  re- 
cently travelled  there,  says :  "Within  this  genera- 

[  293] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

tion  we  shall  see  the  full  awakening  of  China, 
and  the  adoption  of  all  our  Western  improve- 
ments— telephones,  telegraphs,  railroads,  and 
even  the  New  Woman." 

The  change  in  Turkey  since  the  Constitution 
and  the  dethronement  of  Abdul  Hamid  is 
greater  than  would  appear  from  the  actual  im- 
provements accomplished.  Those  who  are  the 
rulers  of  Turkey  today  are  thoroughly  in  sym- 
pathy with  Western  ideas  and  methods.  They 
want  to  introduce  improvements  as  rapidly  as 
possible,  but  the  ignorance  and  fanaticism  of  the 
masses  and  the  obstacles  put  in  their  way  by 
selfish  European  diplomacy  act  as  hindrances. 

The  same  awakening  is  taking  place  in  Persia, 
which  has  been,  until  now,  the  most  backward 
and  uncivilized  of  the  world  nations.  A  country 
without  a  mile  of  railroad  in  it  is  badly  handi- 
capped, not  only  in  economic  but  in  administra- 
tive ways.  A  railroad  running  from  the  Caspian 
to  the  Persian  Gulf  and  connecting  the  main 
cities  of  Persia  would  work  a  wonderful  change 
in  that  most  Oriental  of  countries.  At  present 
its  chief  and  indeed  only  industry  is  rug-making. 
There  is  very  little  money  in  the  country  and  that 

[294] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

little  is  badly  managed.  A  great  step  was  taken 
by  Persia  in  the  engagement  of  Mr.  Sinister  and 
his  assistants  to  reorganize  the  finances  of  the 
country  and  administer  them.  What  a  pity  that 
the  splendidly  efficient  work  he  was  doing  there 
had  to  cease,  owing  to  international  selfishness 
and  aggression.  Persia  is  eager  now  for  indus- 
tries, and  her  business  men  are  corresponding 
with  this  country  for  information  which  will  help 
them  improve  their  own. 

A  movement  which  is  bound  to  produce  great 
results  within  the  next  generation  is  the  educat- 
ing of  Oriental  youths  in  European  and  Ameri- 
can universities.  Hundreds  of  Chinese  students, 
thanks  to  the  indemnity  fund,  are  seeking  educa- 
tion in  this  country,  and  imbibing  Western  ideas. 
India  has  had  the  benefit  of  modern  education  for 
many  years.  One  of  the  first  steps  of  the  Young 
Turks  after  the  Revolution  was  to  send  to 
Europe  for  advanced  education  a  hundred  young 
men,  all  of  whom  are  pledged  to  return  and  de- 
vote their  newly-acquired  knowledge  to  the 
building  up  of  Turkey.  At  the  same  time  im- 
provements were  made  in  the  educational  institu- 
tions at  home  throughout  the  Ottoman  Empire. 

[295] 


THE     REAL    TURK 

Persia,  too,  has  awakened  to  her  educational 
needs,  and  her  students  may  be  found  through- 
out the  universities  of  Europe  and  America. 
Only  recently  some  children  of  the  nobility,  in- 
cluding a  prince  of  royal  blood,  were  sent  to  this 
country  to  be  trained  in  Western  ways. 

When  these  Oriental  countries  can  command 
their  own  talent  for  public  enterprises,  for  scien- 
tific and  industrial  progress,  and  for  advanced 
education,  as  Japan  is  already  doing,  they  will 
be  on  the  highroad  to  civilization.  The  impor- 
tant thing  is.that  they  now  realize  their  weakness, 
and  see  that  the  strength  of  European  nations  is 
due  to  their  utilization  of  scientific  discoveries: 
this  is  a  complete  change  of  heart,  so  to  speak. 

Here  lies  the  great  opportunity  of  the  West. 
If  it  gives  what  it  has  in  the  spirit  of  brother- 
hood, instead  of  in  contempt  and  in  selfish  de- 
signs upon  the  integrity  of  Eastern  nations,  we 
shall  see  a  genuine  friendship  established  within 
a  few  generations  between  these  two  parts  of  the 
same  world — a  friendship  which  can  be  mutual, 
for  the  East  has  as  much  to  give  as  we  have,  but 
of  a  different  kind. 

From  the  mingling  of  these  two  civilizations, 

[296] 


FTJHE  buffalo  ox-team,  characteristic  of 
J.  Turkey  and  the  whole  Orient.  They 
move  so  slowly  that  they  seem  to  stand  still, 
but  the  Turk  is  never  in  a  hurry. 


TURKISH  family  from  Bokhara,  the 
interior  of  Turkistan,  migrating  to 
Constantinople.  The  Turkish  peasant, 
though  absolutely  uneducated,  has  a  charm 
and  dignity  of  manner. 


THE     REAL    TURK 

so  different,  yet  each  so  rich  in  treasures,  would 
come  a  wonderful  age.  We  can  help  the  people 
of  the  East  to  reach  a  higher  standard  of  living 
and  to  enjoy  comforts  which  advanced  civiliza- 
tion has  brought  to  us.  They  can  teach  us  the 
secret  of  happiness:  true  simplicity  of  heart; 
spirituality  which  is  not  quenched  by  material 
things;  and  the  vision  of  infinitude  which  has 
grown  into  their  minds  and  souls. 

We  have  much,  and  yet  are  not  contented; 
they  have  little,  and  are  satisfied.  Somewhere 
between  our  restless  discontent,  which  leads  to 
progress,  and  their  lethargic  satisfaction,  which 
leads  to  stagnation,  lies  the  golden  mean — a 
calm  activity,  and  a  striving  for  the  best  which 
has  in  it  no  bitterness,  no  feverish  intensity  nor 
disappointment,  because  upheld  by  a  large  faith 
in  the  universe. 

Of  all  Western  countries  America  has  the 
widest  opportunities  for  promoting  the  cause  of 
brotherhood  with  the  East.  Its  mission  in  the 
world's  history  is  to  prove  a  noble  one.  It  has  al- 
ready upheld  the  torch  of  liberty  to  the  world; 
and  now  it  must  take  the  lead  in  the  movement 
for  the  brotherhood  of  nations.  It  is  trusted  in 

[297] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

the  Orient  because  alone  of  all  the  great  powers 
it  is  not  looking  for  territorial  aggrandizement. 
All  nations  are  selfish  and  designing,  but  Amer- 
ica is  probably  the  least  so.  Americans  may  be 
rough  and  uncultured  in  their  ways,  but  they  are 
full  of  a  ready  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate  of 
whatever  race.  They  have  already  taken  the 
lead  in  spreading  education  in  the  East  and  in 
lending  a  helping  hand.  One  Oriental  told  me, 
not  in  idle  compliment,  I  know,  that  he  had 
found  the  Americans  the  most  kindly  and  disin- 
terested of  all  races. 

If  we  but  realize  how  eagerly  the  Orientals 
look  to  us  for  help,  how  largely  America  looms 
in  their  dreams,  and  how  willing  they  are  to  give 
their  confidence  and  friendship  to  us,  we  should 
be  inspired  to  increased  effort.  Orientals  do  not 
merely  like  or  dislike — they  either  love  or  hate. 
Their  affections  are  strong.  It  is  a  wonderful 
thing  to  win  the  confidence  and  affection  of  such 
people.  I  call  to  mind  many  Turks  from  whom, 
after  only  a  brief  time  of  friendly  association,  I 
have  parted  as  a  brother.  They  are  ready  to  do 
their  share  toward  meeting  us  on  a  friendly  basis, 
on  a  basis  of  world  unity,  but  they  need  our  help. 

[298] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

There  is  a  great  need  of  American  teachers  in  all 
the  Oriental  countries.  The  Chinese  say,  "We 
need  Americans."  Persia  feels  the  same  need, 
and  so  does  Turkey. 

As  is  often  said,  the  world  cannot  truly  prog- 
ress save  as  each  member  in  it  progresses — and  it 
is  the  duty  of  the  most  advanced  to  help  the  lag- 
ging. No  part  of  the  world  needs  our  assistance 
more  today,  or  is  more  desirous  of  it,  than  the 
Orient.  Here,  then,  is  our  opportunity  to  help 
in  bringing  to  pass  the  brotherhood  of  man. 

In  the  past  every  civilization,  after  it  reached 
its  prime,  was  wiped  out  by  a  barbarous  race 
which  destroyed  its  art  and  literature,  thus  re- 
ducing the  culture  of  the  world  to  a  low  level. 
The  last  time  this  was  done  the  offenders  were 
people  of  our  own  race — the  Teutonic — who 
poured  into  the  Roman  Empire  and  nearly 
effaced  its  vast  culture,  the  accumulation  of 
centuries. 

The  most  marvelous  fact  in  connection  with 
our  present  civilization  is  that  there  seems  to  be 
no  possibility  of  its  extinction  by  human  means. 
There  exists  no  lower  race  at  present  that  is 
powerful  enough  to  destroy  the  West.  The  yel- 

[299] 


THE     REAL     TURK 

low  race  is  dangerously  large,  but  by  the  time  it 
gets  its  full  power  it  will  have  no  desire  to  de- 
stroy. The  brown  race  is  in  many  ways  less  ad- 
vanced than  the  yellow,  but  it  is  now  striving  for 
culture ;  and  it  has  made  much  progress  since  the 
days  when  Genghis  Khan  poured  his  hordes  into 
Southern  and  Western  Asia  and  wiped  out 
civilization  wherever  he  crossed  its  path;  we 
have  therefore,  little  to  fear  from  it,  but  it  would 
be  best  for  the  world  that  it  become  educated  and 
organized  upon  an  efficient  and  enlightened  basis 
as  quickly  as  possible.  The  black  race — how 
large  nobody  exactly  knows — is  certainly  po- 
tentially powerful,  but  has  small  chance  of  sweep- 
ing over  the  world;  it,  too,  must  become  civilized 
ere  long. 

There  is  every  probability,  then,  that  the 
world  will  advance  at  an  even  pace  from  now  on, 
adding  discovery  to  discovery,  accumulating 
knowledge  and  wisdom,  perfecting  the  arts  of 
life,  until  it  reaches  a  stage  of  culture  of  which 
we  cannot  even  dream  today;  of  which  we  can 
hardly  conceive  with  our  present  limited  experi- 
ence. So  much  has  been  accomplished  in  the  last 
hundred  years  that  it  is  safe  to  say  much  more 

[800] 


THE    REAL    TURK 

will  be  accomplished  in  the  next  hundred  years; 
and  in  the  next  ten  hundred  years — but  the  mind 
is  staggered  at  the  possibilities  therein,  and  the 
pen  refuses  to  write. 

Suffice  it  to  say  there  is  a  glorious  civilization 
ahead  for  each  one  of  us  to  work  for — a  brother- 
hood of  men  banded  together  by  common  ties  and 
constantly  progressing  toward  better  and  higher 
living.  Here  is  an  ideal  great  enough  to  quicken 
the  dullest  imagination  and  to  inspire  even  the 
most  sluggish  individual  to  increased  activity  for 
the  common  good. 


[801] 


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